Another Summer Challenge
by 554Laura
Summary: It's becoming a tradition: A set of stories based on prompts from Bonesology. These chapters will be in a variety of styles and topics depending on the prompts, and will be written about a variety of characters. Rated T just in case. Of course, I don't own Bones...
1. Chapter 1 Regrets

_A/N: the prompt for this chapter was "Never let the words 'I love you' be left unsaid..."_

* * *

Even after the successful closure of such a high profile case, Seeley Booth was subdued as he took a seat at the bar in Wong Fu's. It had been a busy day, and he was beat, but he wasn't really in any hurry to get home. Going home would mean having to explain things to Tessa, and he wasn't sure he was up to that just yet.

He smiled as Sid brought him a bottle of his favorite beer along with a chilled pilsner glass and a container of mixed nuts. Leave it to Sid...in Booth's crazy, mixed up world, Sid seemed to be the one constant...the one person who understood Booth completely. Nothing needed to be said between them...just a tacit nod between good friends before Sid left Booth to quietly sulk with his drink.

If the truth were to be told, Booth realized he should be happy, or at the very least, relieved, with the outcome of the trial. Judge Myles Hasty had been disbarred and was going to serve at least twenty years in jail for murdering Gemma Arrington. As an FBI agent who worked in the Major Crimes division, Booth would finally achieve not only some recognition for his abilities in working on a cold case, but also a sense of closure for ending that investigation after three long years. He'd finally be able to look Gemma's mother in the eyes and tell her that justice had been meted out to the man who'd killed her daughter. All of the time spent on the case...the months of refusing to give up, of leaving no stone unturned, and of following up on every slim lead had been worth it. He'd closed the case, and his supervisor had been impressed, as had the formidable Ms. Caroline Julian. Impressing that DOJ attorney was a monumental task in itself, but it seemed she had been quite pleased with his efforts, and had made a point to say so to Director Cullen.

Booth knew he should be pleased as well...that he should be proud of his efforts. He was an excellent investigator, and he knew what he was doing when he worked a murder. He should be glad that he was being noticed by the people he worked with, especially since he wanted to move up through the ranks of the FBI. He had long range plans to be in charge of a division one day, so what was the problem? He should just take his well-deserved accolades and move on to the next case.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I should do," he muttered to himself as he watched the bubbles of beer rise to the top of his glass. "I deserve it. I worked my ass off on that goddamn case...I was the lead investigator, so I should get all of the credit, right?" Except, he thought to himself, that wasn't really the truth. He hadn't actually done all the work...and that was the problem...and that was why he couldn't be completely happy with today's outcome.

He'd had some help from a very special person, and that help was what had broken the case wide open. Booth had ever met anyone like Temperance Brennan. She was brilliant, mercurial, beautiful, and completely guileless. She had no preconceived notions about the way justice worked or who should win or lose in a murder case. To her, the case was merely a puzzle to be solved, not a means to earn recognition or a promotion. She'd enjoyed the challenge of proving who'd committed the crime, and Booth had enjoyed the challenge of trying to understand her...of trying to figure out what made her tick.

After he'd seen her lecturing her class in the auditorium that afternoon so many months ago, he knew his life would be changed forever. He'd called it Fate, and she'd laughed at that ridiculous notion, but to this day, he believed she'd entered his life for an even more important reason than finding Gemma Arrington's murderer. There just had to be more to it than that. How else could he explain the changes that occurred in his life so soon after he'd met her? He'd gone back to Gamblers' Anonymous to regain his sobriety after briefly working with her. He was determined to be a better FBI agent so he could hold his own while he worked with a genius like her. He'd taken her advice and changed up his wardrobe just enough so he could stand out from the rest of the members of his paramilitary organization. He was finally ready to be noticed by the people in charge of the Bureau, and all because of Temperance Brennan's influence on his life.

It had to be Fate. How else could he explain the way he'd felt that night, when he stood with her in the pouring rain outside that pool hall as she pulled him close and kissed him? His stomach still did flips when he thought of those beautiful blue eyes looking up at him...of her scent fogging his brain as she stood huddled close to him...of the feeling of her lips brushing against his...those feelings were not just lust or drunkenness. Bones was special...more special than any woman he'd ever met, and no one else had ever made him feel so alive.

Taking another sip of his beer, Booth thought about the court session today. He'd looked forward to it for weeks, wanting to see Bones as she came to testify about how the two of them had used the evidence they'd gathered to determine that Judge Hasty had committed the crime. However, much to his extreme disappointment, her testimony hadn't been needed this morning. Ms. Julian had gotten Hasty to agree to a plea bargain in hopes of avoiding a scandalous trial which would've exposed his cocaine habit, most likely causing the cases he'd heard to be reopened or appealed. From her perspective, the sooner this whole sordid affair was behind them, the better she'd like it. Booth had understood Ms. Julian's point, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. He'd wanted the chance to talk to Bones again...the chance to explain how things should've been between them.

He and Bones had parted on less than ideal circumstances after a very loud, very angry, and very public argument at the Hoover, which ended abruptly when she had slapped his face and stormed out of his office. If he'd only swallowed his damned pride and gone to the Jeffersonian the next day to smooth things over with her, things might've been different, but he had vowed to himself that he wouldn't be the one to give in. He knew he wasn't the one at fault, and he'd done nothing deserving an apology. She was obviously crazy, right? She was the one who walked away from him without so much as a backwards glance, so she needed to be the one to do the apologizing. Unfortunately, that strategy had been a spectacular failure, because she hadn't spoken to him at all since that day. She'd gone on with her life, and he'd gone on with his, and things were just fine, right? He was happy, right? He had a great job, a nice apartment, a beautiful girlfriend...what else could he want?

"Bones. I want Bones.", he said to himself. "I guess I'll always want Bones. I guess maybe I'll always love her..." He contemplated his frustration as he picked at the label on his beer bottle. Was it really possible to fall so deeply in love with a woman after spending just a few days with her? Was it really possible for someone you barely knew to have such a profound impact on your life? What if he'd gone to the Jeffersonian and bared his soul to her the day after they'd argued? What if he'd asked for a second chance? What if he'd told her how he felt? Maybe they'd be together now instead of seeming to be millions of miles apart, even though they lived in the same city.

Thanking Sid as the man brought him another beer, Booth sighed sadly. It was too late now to tell Bones how much he loved her...that he'd fallen in love with her the moment he met her. Of course, she'd probably think that confession about his falling in love with her at first sight was just as silly as his idea about their meeting being the work of Fate. It seemed they were well past that part of their lives at this point in time, and, anyway, now he had Tessa, and she seemed to be happy with him just the way he was. She was so very different than Brennan. Tessa was as uncomplicated as Bones was difficult...but maybe that was part of the problem. He already knew everything there was to know about Tessa. There were no more surprises with her...no more challenges...just the same old routine.

He glanced at his watch as he munched on some peanuts. He'd need to go home to his girlfriend soon and pretend to be happy to see her as he explained how successful he'd been in closing the case, even if he didn't really feel that way. She'd be worried if he was late for dinner, and she'd also be anxious to hear what Director Cullen might've said about the possibility of a promotion for him after such a successful outcome for the case.

He sat alone for a few minutes longer, trying to deal with his regrets over what had happened between himself and Bones. He knew there'd always be traces of sadness whenever he thought of her. Draining his beer, he sighed as he stood up and put some bills on the counter before heading home for the evening. It was time to move on...to forget Temperance Brennan for good...and maybe, one day, if he was very, very lucky, he might be able to do that.

Maybe…

...or maybe not...


	2. Chapter 2 Some Like it Hot

_A/N: this wasn't an 'official' prompt from the Bonesology summer challenge, but I decided to post it here anyway. I was chatting with some fellow writers about how my air conditioning had broken, and we all decided that having a naked (or even a nearly naked) Booth would make that problem more bearable. That's how this little episode, set in season 4, was born. I hope you're staying cool, wherever you are...Laura_

* * *

"Horrible...sticky...nasty…" Seeley Booth grumbled to himself as he made his way to his office in the Hoover. The heat wave that had descended over Washington, DC had decided to make an extended stay, and it was the eighth day with temperatures in the upper nineties. Paired with the area's notoriously high humidity, the city wasn't a pleasant place for anyone who had to be outside for any length of time.

Unfortunately, because the Hoover's ancient air conditioning system had finally given up the ghost, being inside for work wasn't pleasant either. Repairs on the massive condensers and evaporator coils were going slowly, partially due to the size of the job, and partially due to the size of the bureaucracy in charge of making the repairs. At the first sign of trouble with the cooling system, paperwork had been dutifully completed and submitted by the stationary engineer in charge of the building, and had promptly been lost by the General Service Administration employee who had received it. After all the backtracking and finger pointing between the bureaucrats had been finished, the estimated repair time for the air conditioning was estimated to be at least two weeks. However, since the criminals in the area insisted on creating mayhem despite the failure of the cooling system in the concrete monstrosity that housed the Bureau, business had to carry on as usual at the FBI.

The immense fortress-like structure of the Hoover was not designed to be ventilated by any method other than air conditioning, and the offices had become very uncomfortable. Large fans had been brought into the bullpen areas for cooling, and the smaller offices of the special agents in charge each had their own personal fan. Still, the heat was stifling, and as long as the different agencies in charge of the repairs were involved in a pissing contest, the outlook for quick relief was bleak at best.

The only good news, it seemed, was that the normally staid dress code of the FBI had been relaxed in response to the heat emergency. Agents could dispense with their suit jackets, and the men were told that they could leave their ties at home. Casual days would be the norm for agents until the air conditioning repair crisis was over.

Mopping his brow and neck as he left the elevator, Booth smoothed his knit polo shirt and adjusted the waistband of his khaki slacks. Even though his present outfit was more comfortable than his suit and tie, he was still miserably hot. He grinned as he thought about how Pops had cooled himself after work on those hot days in Philly so many years ago, sitting in his boxers in front of a large fan with a wet towel around his neck. _Maybe I oughta try that...I can close the blinds, and no one would probably be the wiser if I sat there under the fan in my shorts and cooled off for a bit...hmm…._

Preoccupied with his private thoughts, he didn't pay much attention as he opened his office door until he heard his visitor's small cough. "Bones...what are you doing here? Oh, my God...what are you wearing?" Turning around, he quickly made sure the blinds were closed before turning back to Brennan. "I mean...look at what you're not wearing…" Trying to regain control, he clamped his eyes shut. "Jesus, Bones...really?"

"What's wrong, Booth? I was uncomfortably hot in my work clothing…" Brennan sat stretched out on his leather armchair with her legs up on the ottoman, wearing a pale blue lace bra and panties set and a pair of black stiletto heels. "Oh, I see...you're upset because I'm only wearing my underwear." She rolled her eyes at his prudish behavior. "I really don't see what the problem is. You've seen me in a bikini bathing suit when you and Parker have come over to swim at my apartment building. My current undergarments actually cover more of my body than my bathing suit does. See? My briefs cover my navel, unlike my bikini bottoms. Logically, you have nothing to be embarrassed about..."

"Yeah, but that's not the point." Booth tried to walk toward his desk without looking at Brennan, cringing as he realized how much he actually wanted to look. "I mean, with a bathing suit, it's a bathing suit, so it's kind of like regular clothes, and it's okay for me to see you wearing that, but with underclothes, it's something you wear under your clothes, and I'm not supposed to look at them because you're supposed to have clothes on over them…" He allowed himself one little peek, enjoying how the blue of her undergarments accentuated the color of her eyes. Quickly turning away, he sat at his desk and tried to act busy. "Maybe you should cover up, there, Bones…"

"You're being very silly, Booth, probably because of your religious upbringing. I find your Puritan ethos to be rather annoying." She groaned softly as she stretched, throwing her arms up over her head as she shifted in her seat, shaking her glossy auburn waves and pretending to pout a bit. "It's so hot in here. Don't you think you'd be more comfortable if you were wearing only your underwear as well? I know I'd prefer to see you like that…" She rose from the chair and came over to stand behind him as he tried to access his computer, running her hands over his shoulders and upper arms. "You need to disperse some of your body heat...and then we can make some more heat together when we make love…"

"Bones, c'mon...I'm trying to concentrate on the case here. Okay, look." He spun his chair around to face her and found himself at eye level with the gentle swell of her breasts in her demi cup blue bra. "Look...it's really too hot for this...sort of...thing…right?" He reached up to caress her tenderly. "...and I've...got..lots of...work...to do…"

She bent down closer to kiss him. "I find this sweltering weather to be quite scintillating, Booth. It makes me feel so sensual. I think we should dispense with all of our clothing...the fan will cool us off if we turn it to blow on both of us….you know you want to, Booth...let's sit under the fan naked...it'll be fun..."

"Bones…." Booth groaned as his eyes popped open. Trying to get his bearings, he glanced around his darkened bedroom until he found his clock. Midnight. Puffing out a frustrated sigh, he got up to adjust the window box air conditioning unit, turning it down to make the room colder. The summer night was so hot, and he'd had that dream again…the same one he'd had almost every night for the last week...the one that made his temperature, among other things, rise...

Hearing his phone chime, he checked his messages. Bones needed to meet him tomorrow to share her findings about their latest case. Did he want her to come to the Hoover in the morning?

Thinking about his sultry dream and the lack of air conditioning at the Hoover, he shook his head as he laughed to himself. Maybe they'd both be more comfortable at the diner...


	3. Chapter 3 Fear

_A/N: it is not my intention to make fun of anybody's religious beliefs or experiences with this chapter..._

* * *

"You're being ridiculous, Booth…" Brennan shook her head at her husband as she got out of the car. "Your fear in this situation is completely irrational…"

"Wow...way to be supportive of me, there, Bones." Booth nervously smoothed his tie as he locked the SUV. "Look, I can't help it, okay? They creep me out."

Regretting that she'd scolded him so severely, Brennan reached out to take her husband's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to belittle you. I just don't understand why they bother you so much." They slowly walked up to a concrete building and entered through the outer double doors. "However, I realize that phobias often occur without explanation…"

"This isn't a phobia!" Whispering angrily, Booth gave his wife an exasperated glare. "I just don't like them, okay? I mean, I know they have their place in the whole scheme of things, but…you know...they're just so weird...they're not normal, you know? And I'm not alone in this, okay? A lot of people are afraid of them."

"I know." Brennan smiled at Booth as they stood outside the door of a small office. "Don't worry. I'll be right here with you, Booth. I'm here to support you, no matter what happens…"

"Thanks, Bones. That helps a lot." Swallowing hard, Booth knocked on the wooden door, nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the room's occupant to answer.

Closing his eyes, he cringed as he heard the rustling of fabric moving slowly across the room. When the door finally opened, a petite elderly nun in a traditional long black habit greeted them warmly. "Agent Booth? Dr. Brennan? Please come in."

Seeing that her husband appeared to be rooted to the floor, Brennan smiled as she extended her hand to the nun. "Sister Edburga? It's nice to see you again, isn't it, Booth?"

"Um….what? Oh, yes...nice…" Booth trembled slightly as he nodded to the woman and shook her hand. "We, um...we're here to discuss our daughter's First Holy Communion…right?"

"Yes, that's correct." Gesturing to some chairs opposite her tidy desk, Sister Edburga smiled gently. "I like to meet individually with the parents of the children in my Sunday School class as we begin preparations for this sacred event, in case there are any concerns or questions about what happens during the service. Most of the time it just takes a few minutes…are you alright, Agent Booth? Believe me, I have no question about Christine's readiness to participate in the Holy Eucharist." She paused, her concern for her visitor evident. "Are you feeling ill, sir? You really look very pale..."

"I'm fine, Sister." Booth was desperately trying to ignore the beads of sweat that had begun forming on his forehead and upper lip. "I don't have any questions. I think we're ready to go…"

Brennan reached over to pat his knee as she smiled at the nun. "It seems my husband has an irrational fear of the members of your organization…"

Sister Edburga chuckled softly. "I see." She grinned at Booth as she sat back in her chair. "May I surmise that you attended parochial school, Agent Booth?"

'Yeah...Holy Family Elementary School. I went until I finished fifth grade…" He exhaled slowly as he gripped the arms of his chair. "Sister Elizabeth was the headmistress there, and she was a very stern woman. She had this long wooden paddle and she wasn't afraid to use it to correct our behavior…"

"Ah, yes. Spare the rod and spoil the child. I remember those days." The elderly nun nodded sadly. "I'm afraid that perhaps some of our schools' disciplinary methods in the past may have instilled fear into our students instead of the Love of God. An unexpected consequence of the strict behavioral expectations of the parochial schools, I suppose." She studied Booth carefully. "It seems that perhaps you had a lot of experience with the paddle your headmistress wielded."

"I wasn't the best student, I guess." Booth hesitated, grinning at the memory of his former school principal. "I think Sister Elizabeth probably got tired of seeing me in her office every other day or so. I'm sure I deserved to be 'corrected' from time to time. I could be a pretty ornery kid...but I know she was only doing what she thought was best for me, and it must've worked, because I turned out okay..."

"I completely understand." Sister Edburga laughed out loud. "It may interest you to know that I, too, experienced the paddle from the nuns at my school when I was a little girl. I grew to be very frightened of going to school, until I had an excellent, caring teacher. Sister Frances was a wonderful woman, and I was determined to follow in her footsteps, even if it meant that I would have to become a nun as well." The elderly woman arched her eyebrow at Booth's surprise. "I also decided that I would do my best to make sure my students were not frightened of me. I knew I could be firm without being mean, and that became my mission in life as I taught my fifth graders. Based on how many of my former students come to visit me, I think I was successful."

"That's good to know, isn't it, Booth?" Brennan smiled as her husband began to relax somewhat. Wanting to change the subject as Booth grew calmer, Brennan continued with a question, even though she already knew the answer. "So, Sister, I'm not as familiar with the concept of a First Communion as Booth is. Could you please explain it to me?"

After chatting for a few more minutes, Booth and Brennan prepared to leave. "Thanks again, Sister." Booth shook her hand gently. "I'll make sure to help Christine prepare for the service. We appreciate your time."

"You're most welcome, Agent Booth. Thank you for coming." Sister Edburga walked them to the outer door of the building. "See you Sunday…"

Booth turned to Brennan as they walked to their car. "Thanks for coming with me, Bones. I know the church stuff isn't really your thing. You probably think making a such big deal out of Christine's First Communion is kind of silly."

"That may be true, but given your fear in this situation, I felt that it was necessary to come with you in order to provide some moral support." She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his annoyance. "It's hard to imagine that anyone could be afraid of Sister Edburga, isn't it?"

Thinking about the nun's sweet nature, Booth nodded. "Yeah...I feel kind of silly about that." He shrugged as he climbed into the car. "I guess nuns are just ordinary people, like everyone else, but to me they always have this weird mystical quality, you know? Maybe that's because of their religious calling, but I still find them kinda scary."

"Perhaps." Brennan nodded. "Or perhaps you feel that way because you've never had a chance to get to know any of them very well. People are often afraid of things they don't understand…"

Booth grinned as he backed the SUV out of the parking space. "So does that mean you don't understand snakes?"

"I understand them...I just don't like them." Brennan glared at her husband. "And if I remember correctly, that's what you say about clowns as well, correct?"

"Wait...why are we talking about clowns? We were having a perfectly normal conversation and then you bring up clowns…"

"We were talking about things you were afraid of, not what I'm afraid of…" Brennan's voice rose in annoyance.

Booth narrowed his eyes at his wife as he grumbled his answer. "You said phobias occur without explanation, so I don't have to explain to you why I don't like clowns…"

"As I said, Booth...you're being totally irrational…"

"Yeah, you're right." He shrugged as he pulled the car out into traffic. "Maybe we should talk about something else...something that doesn't make us both irritable."

"Excellent idea." Brennan giggled softly. "Don't forget about the carnival at Christine's school this weekend…"

"I didn't forget. I'm not going this year."

"What? Why?" Brennan was clearly surprised. "You usually love those events."

"Yeah, but I got in trouble last year, remember? That guy making the balloon animals?"

"Booth, I don't think Mrs. Hammersmith will hold that against you. It's not your fault he was dressed as a clown…"

"There you go with the clowns again. Maybe this year they'll have a snake charmer dressed as a clown, and we'll both be in trouble, right?" Booth winked at his wife, who was pretending to pout. "Okay, truce. No more talk about our phobias, right? Let's talk about something else."

"Another excellent idea. Let's talk about decluttering the house. We need to clean out some closets this weekend. I think you should discard some of your old tee shirts. You seem to have hundreds of them…"

Booth grimaced as he shook his head. "Never mind. Let's talk about clowns…"


	4. Chapter 4 The Nickname

_A/N: a little longer than normal, and maybe slightly raunchy, but all in good fun. The prompt for this story was to tell what Booth's FBI nickname was, and how he got it. Set between seasons 4 and 5, with a very slight tinge of AU._

* * *

The Major Crimes division of the DC field office was hosting its annual conference on the use of forensic techniques to aid in solving cold cases. Agents from all across the country were attending, anxious to replicate the outstanding success of Special Agent in Charge Booth and his partner Dr. Brennan.

The opening evening of the conference featured a black tie cocktail party, which was being held in one of the Jeffersonian's large ballrooms. The usual meet and greet activities were in progress as Booth worked his way around the room with Brennan by his side.

"You look great tonight, Bones." He paused as he admired her knee length, form fitting navy blue dress. "I don't think anyone's gonna pay attention to what I have to say once they get a load of you…"

"Thank you, Booth. I find I'm quite pleased with your clothing choices as well." He was wearing his black tuxedo, and it showed off his physique in a very satisfactory manner. "I'm impressed by the size of the crowd this evening. It appears that our conference is well attended this year."

"Well, everybody wants to be like us, you know? We've got the best record east of the Mississippi…oh, no..." Groaning, Booth turned away from Brennan and nodded toward the door. "C'mon...we have to go…"

"Go? I don't understand, Booth. We just got here…" Brennan was obviously confused as he pulled her along. "I haven't even had a drink…"

"TRIG! Trig! Over here! Hey, wait up!" A strikingly beautiful woman came rushing over to where Booth and Brennan were standing. "I can't believe it! It's been years, hasn't it?" The stranger flashed a dazzling smile as she reached for Booth's hand. "You look great! What's it been...five years?"

"No, longer than that." Booth grimaced slightly as he pulled his hand away. "Denise, this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Dr. Brennan works here at the Jeffersonian as the lead forensic anthropologist. Bones, this is Special Agent Denise Dutton…"

"Oh, Dr. Brennan! I'm so glad to meet you." Agent Dutton smiled as she shook Brennan's hand. "Trig and I were at the Academy together." Arching her eyebrow, she gave Booth a sexy smirk. "We had a lot of fun back then, didn't we,Trig?"

"Yeah, but that was ages ago, Denise." Much to Brennan's surprise, Booth seemed less than thrilled to see his old friend. "Which office are you assigned to now?" Seattle?"

"San Antonio, although I've been considering asking for a transfer to the DC office. There are a couple of openings in the Crimes Against Children Division." Agent Dutton licked her lips, making no attempt to disguise how much she admired Booth's appearance in his tuxedo. "I'm excited about the possibility of us working together again…"

"Um, okay. Hope that works out for you." Booth scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Listen, Denise, me and Bones have to go work the room, you know? We're the host office, so we gotta go make nice with all the guests..."

"I completely understand. Hey, how about dinner tomorrow night?" Denise casually brushed her hand along Booth's arm. "You know, for old time's sake? I don't get out this way very often, and I've really missed you, Trig. I'd like to spend some time catching up...on everything."

Booth shook his head, avoiding eye contact with Agent Dutton. "I don't think I can do dinner tomorrow. Me and Bones are really busy…"

Brennan interrupted him. "Actually, I have to present a lecture on new methods of body fluid collection to the FBI Forensics team members tomorrow evening, Booth, so you're free to have dinner with Denise if you'd like."

"Oh...yeah...I forgot." An irritated Booth glared at Brennan as he nervously fidgeted with his bow tie. Finally, knowing that he was beaten, he gave in. "Okay, Denise, we can go to dinner together tomorrow. I'll meet you at Nolita's on K Street at 7."

"It's a date. Nice to meet you, Dr. Brennan. See you tomorrow, Trig." Denise giggled as she coyly waved at Booth before walking away.

"Jesus…", Booth muttered under his breath. "...I really did not want to run into her at this thing."

Brennan pursed her lips as she studied her partner, unsure of why he was so angry. "She certainly was enthusiastic about having dinner with you tomorrow, Booth. In fact, it was implied that she's also interested in having sexual intercourse with you as well…"

"Bones!" Booth was scandalized. "That's not gonna happen…", he growled. "Just drop it, okay?"

"Why does she call you Trig?", Brennan asked, amused by her partner's annoyance. "I didn't think you'd studied advanced mathematics…"

"Mathematics? What the hell are you talking about?" Booth shook his head as he moved across the room to greet another agent. "I don't get it."

"Agent Dutton called you 'Trig'. I assumed that was a reference to trigonometry." Brennan gave Booth a questioning look. "Isn't that what she meant?"

"I don't want to talk about it.", Booth grumbled. "Can we please just get through the evening without discussing that? We've got more people to talk to..."

"I suppose so." Brennan smirked as she waved to the head of forensics from the Minneapolis field office. "However, I find it interesting that the man who gave me a nickname like Bones has gotten so upset about someone giving him a nickname like Trig."

"Never mind, okay? Let's just get this cocktail party over with…" Booth glared at Brennan as he sipped his drink. "And don't call me Trig…"

Oooooooooo

Taking a short break from the conference, Brennan and Angela were enjoying lunch together in Angela's office the next day, laughing and talking about all sorts of things. Angela grinned at Brennan as she took a bite from her apple. "Did you enjoy the cocktail party last night? Booth was looking sharp in that tuxedo."

"The cocktail party was fairly interesting, and yes, Booth looked very nice in his tuxedo. Why do you ask?" Brennan eyed her friend suspiciously. "You were there as well."

"Yes, I was there, and I saw that woman butt in between the two of you to flirt with Booth. She was really pawing at him, wasn't she?" Angela studied her friend's reaction, wondering if Brennan had been annoyed by the interloper's attention to Booth. "Who was she?"

"Special Agent Denise Dutton. She and Booth were students at Quantico at the same time." Brennan ate a bite of her salad. "Actually, meeting her was very interesting. It seems she has a special nickname for Booth, and he doesn't like it."

"You mean one of those FBI nicknames? The ironic ones, like calling Sully 'Peanut'?" Angela giggled as she thought of the possibilities. "So what does she call him? Shorty? Stumpy? Tiny?"

Laughing out loud, Brennan arched her eyebrow at her friend. "No, none of those. She called Booth 'Trig', but I have no idea why."

"Trig? What kind of nickname is that?" Angela's face scrunched up as she thought things through. "I don't think that's one of the ironic ones…"

"What I don't understand why people have nicknames, anyway, Angela. Why can't people just use the name they were given? Things would be so much easier for everyone. I mean, Bones isn't too bad, especially when compared to my real name, but some nicknames are quite obnoxious."

"Well, Booth hates his first name, so he sort of gave himself a nickname by calling himself by his last name most of the time. I hate my first name…"

"You hate the name Angela?" Brennan was shocked. "It's a beautiful name."

"I know...that's why I chose it when I changed my name, because it sounds like a real first name. My real first name...the one my dad gave me? It sounds more like a nickname." She ate another bite of her apple. "I had to change it if I wanted anybody to take me seriously…"

Brennan was now thoroughly intrigued. "Certainly it can't be any worse than Temperance…"

"Wanna bet?" Tossing the remnant of her apple into the trash, Angela wiped her hands and grimaced at Brennan. "Okay, you have to promise not to tell anyone...not even Booth." Seeing Brennan nod in agreement, Angela took a deep breath. "My real first name is Pookie. My dad named me Pookie Noodlin Montenegro."

"Oh." Brennan bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Why did he do that? That seems to be a rather absurd choice…"

"Who knows? He heard it on the wind, or in the chords of a song, or something else just as crazy. Believe me, I'd much rather be called Angela." Angela tilted her head, chuckling to herself as she watched Brennan finish her lunch. "We need to find out why Booth's nickname is Trig…"

Oooooooooo

Realizing that Bones, with some prodding by Angela, wouldn't be satisfied until she knew the reason behind his nickname, Booth had made a conscious effort to make himself scarce throughout most of the convention activities the following day. He'd survived having dinner with Special Agent Dutton, and despite several overt hints on her part on how she wanted to spend the rest of the evening, he'd managed to make it home that evening without her. Saturday would prove to be a challenge, but he knew he was up to it. His plan was to avoid having Bones and Denise in the same place at the same time. He was determined to keep the origin of the agent's pet name for him to himself.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated the resourcefulness of his partner and her best friend. He'd wasted a lot of time aligning schedules so the women wouldn't have time to gossip with each other, only to find that they'd all gone to brunch together. Now what should he do? Crash the party and demand that they not discuss the nickname? _Yeah, right...like I can make Bones do anything…_ Pretend not to notice when they looked at him and giggled provocatively? _Easier said than done…_ Finally, he decided to accept his fate. Bones and Angela would know why Denise called him 'Trig', and he'd never hear the end of it.

Meanwhile, Brennan and Angela were enjoying their brunch with Special Agent Dutton. It'd been fun to hear stories about Booth during his Quantico years, before he was an FBI special agent. However, Denise hadn't volunteered anything about Booth's nickname, so Angela decided there was only one thing to do. She'd have to ask.

"So, Denise...Brennan says that Booth has an interesting nickname…" she began. Seeing Brennan's small smile, Angela continued. "We'd both like to know how that came about…"

"Oh, I'm not sure he'd want me to tell you…" Agent Dutton wiped her mouth before sipping her coffee. "He's kind of shy about stuff like that…"

Denise's attempt to put off the explanation only served to inflame the curiosity of her companions. "Oh, you can trust us.", Angela exclaimed. "We won't mention it to him at all."

Swirling the glass holding her Bloody Mary, the agent smiled broadly. "Well...I call him Trig, but his actual nickname is Trigger…"

"Trigger?" Brennan was confused. "Because of his proficiency with a gun? He's quite a skilled marksman."

"That he is...Booth is skilled in a lot of areas, but definitely with a gun." Denise chuckled softly. "No, it was something completely different. One evening, after quite a few beers, we were discussing old tv shows, and Booth told a group of us...his classmates at Quantico...about how much he'd loved watching Roy Rogers reruns on television with his grandfather on Saturday morning. I guess Booth used to pretend to be a cowboy and ride a stick horse around the house." The women all laughed as they pictured that scenario. "As you may remember, the horse in that program was named Trigger." Pausing as she remembered the evening, Denise giggled. "We were walking across this park afterwards, and we were all pretty drunk. We came across this large statue of a horse and rider on a pedestal, so Booth decided to climb up the statue to get on the horse's back, all the while babbling about he was being just like Roy Rogers on Trigger, and how much he loved the horse on that show. Unfortunately, the park ranger who caught us wasn't impressed. We were lucky he just let us off with just a severe scolding. He told us to take our carousing somewhere else. Anyway, that's how Booth got stuck with the nickname of Trigger, and of course, over time that was shortened to Trig."

Brennan and Angela both laughed as they tried to imagine a drunken Booth attempting to climb up on a large statue. Brennan shook her head as she giggled. "I think that's quite humorous…"

Agent Dutton winked at Angela before continuing. "Yeah, it was...however, there's another reason that I have a special affection for that nickname." She leaned across the table, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper to her new friends. "The man was like a stallion when it came to sex, you know, and he wasn't shy to pull the trigger in that department, either. He's more than capable of doing that very thing over and over…all night long. His stamina was amazing while we were together at the Academy." The agent had a dreamy look on her face as she held her hands several inches apart to demonstrate her point. "The man's hung…"

"Like a horse?", Angela squealed. "Oh, my God! I knew it…just like Trigger..."

"I don't know what that means…", Brennan began, her brow furrowed as she thought through Denise's comment. After a few seconds, her eyes grew wide as she understood the implication. "Oh, you mean Booth has...he's well endowed...in his genitals…" Giggling, she smiled happily at her best friend. "It appears you were correct in your suppositions, Angela…"

"You can't tell him I told you!" Denise cringed as she looked around the dining room, realizing that she may have said too much. "He'd kill me if he knew I told you about that. I mean, he was really proud of himself when he was a kid, but now that he's in charge of his own division, I'm sure he wants to keep that sort of thing to himself…"

"You can trust us...right, Brennan?" Angela gently poked Brennan in the ribs. "We'll be discreet…"

"Yes, that is correct…" Brennan nodded in agreement. "I'm quite capable of keeping a secret of that magnitude." She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry...I need to leave. I have to help Booth with a presentation at the convention. I enjoyed our meal together, Agent Dutton…"

Denise grinned at Angela as they watched Brennan walk away. "So does Dr. Brennan know that Booth's in love with her? I tried everything I could to get him to give me a second chance last night, but all he could talk about was his Bones. He's crazy about her…"

"I know...he has been for a long time." Angela took a sip of her coffee. "I think Brennan is crazy about him, too, but she doesn't quite know what to do about it. However…" Grinning at Agent Dutton, Angela shrugged. "...given this new information about Booth, she may be more interested in conducting her own research into that possibility…you know, as a sort of anthropological study into the phenomenon of nicknames."

The women both laughed as they left the restaurant. Denise smirked as she thanked Angela for inviting her to brunch. "I wouldn't blame her one bit...and I think Trig will be more than willing to help her every step of the way…"

Oooooooooo

Booth was grim and tight lipped as Brennan joined him in the conference room. He scowled slightly as she arranged her papers. "How was brunch? Learn anything new, exciting, and different?"

"Not really. Agent Dutton appears to be quite competent, and I believe she'd fit in well at this field office if she should decide to transfer here." Brennan glanced at Booth in confusion, wondering why he was annoyed. "What's the matter?"

"So Denise didn't spill any secrets about our time at the Academy together? She's not known for her discretion." Booth tapped his foot nervously, waiting for his partner's awkward teasing.

Brennan rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. "Really, Booth...we had better things to discuss at brunch. The San Antonio field office also has a high conviction rate, and we were discussing their forensic techniques. Why would we even talk about you? That's a rather egotistical idea, isn't it?"

"Not really. I'm what you all have in common, and I know how women love to gossip about men. I'm sure she told you everything." Booth crossed his arms across his chest as he growled. "Damn that woman and her big mouth!"

"I can assure you that we didn't discuss anything that you should be embarrassed about. Now, I think we should prepare for our presentation, don't you?"

Sighing dramatically, Booth nodded, moving toward the podium to call the meeting to order. Brennan smiled to herself as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. Perhaps, someday in the future, she'd have the opportunity to find out if Booth lived up to his FBI nickname, and she found she was very much looking forward to that opportunity.

She quirked an eyebrow as she listened to Booth begin his part of the lecture. He was a very attractive man. It seemed that she might enjoy engaging in some research on the very interesting idea of how people lived up to their nicknames...especially a nickname like Trigger.


	5. Chapter 5 The Ol' Switcheroo

_A/N: this prompt was a little different. We were supposed to take some established couples other than Brennan and Booth and switch things around. Of course, this story is very AU, so you'll have to use your imagination. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._

* * *

It was just another day at the Jeffersonian. Dr. Brennan was hard at work compiling evidence about the injuries that the victim in their latest case had suffered. She was so engrossed in cataloging the injuries that she barely noticed when Angela came in and plopped down on the sofa in her office.

"Hey, Sweetie…", Angela began with a sigh. "What are you doing this morning?"

Looking up from her computer, Brennan was obviously surprised at the question. "I'm working on the Albers case. Booth needs this report as soon as possible so Caroline will have probable cause for an arrest warrant." Turning impatiently to her computer, Brennan continued. "Have you finished the facial reconstruction for the new set of remains that came in yesterday?"

"No…" Angela threw her head back dramatically as she sprawled out on the couch. "I haven't been in the mood to work the last couple of days."

Brennan rolled her eyes at her friend. "However, that is your job. The lab pays you to do those things. If people always waited until they were in the mood to work, Angela, nothing would ever get done."

"That's easy for you to say. You've got a hot husband who keeps you in a good mood. I mean, you get to wake up to that handsome hunk of manhood every morning...that's enough to put a smile on any woman's face before she comes to work."

"I have to admit that Booth makes my morning routine quite enjoyable." Brennan bit her lip shyly as she arched her eyebrow at Angela. "He often makes my routine enjoyable two or three times in the morning before we leave for work."

"See? That makes it worth waking up, right? You're not bored with him like I am with my guy."

"I can't believe you're already bored with Aubrey, Angela. You've only been together for a few months. Besides, he's intelligent and very attractive…"

"He is very cute, if you like the tall, slender type. That's not it. I mean, I like him, you know? He's smart, and he has a good job, and he's not bad in bed." Angela grimaced slightly. "It's hard to explain…"

"Evidently, because I still don't understand the problem." Brennan sighed quietly. Angela had always been quite fickle when it came to men. "Booth says that Aubrey's an outstanding FBI agent, and an excellent work partner. According to Booth, Aubrey's future is bright...he might even make director some day."

"I think that's part of the problem. Aubrey's bright, but he's so...conventional, you know? He's too predictable. I know what he's going to have for lunch every day and which movie he wants to watch on Saturday night. I mean, even in the bedroom, he's got a routine down. It's not a bad routine, and I usually enjoy the results, but it would be nice to mix things up from time to time. I could give you a play by play of what happened last night, and it would be exactly the same as what's gonna happen tonight."

"Please don't give me a description, Angela." Brennan turned back to her computer. "Have you encouraged him to do things to break up the monotony? Maybe you should instigate the love making, just to change things up a bit."

"I tried that, and he didn't resist, but he doesn't understand what the problem is, either. Aubrey just doesn't get it. He doesn't have the same need for variety as I do. He's happy with the way things are, and he thinks I should be, too." Angela shrugged as she studied her fingernails. "I don't know why I feel this way. He's very supportive of my artistic endeavors. He loves my photographs and my paintings, and he encourages me to try different things with my artwork. I think maybe it's because he's not a very creative person himself. I like to turn things upside down from time to time so I can look at things a new way, and he's very uncomfortable with that."

Brennan nodded as she listened to her friend's complaint. Perhaps the combination of a conventional FBI agent and a free spirited artist wasn't going to work, but she had little advice to offer. "Well, I guess you'll have to do what you think is best. Are you willing to be single again?"

"I don't know. It's nice to have a pleasant, responsible, and reliable boyfriend for a change. Too bad he's so dull…"

Oooooooooo

"I don't know what I'm gonna do, Booth." Aubrey stared out the diner window, watching the people walk by. "I just don't think things are gonna work out between me and Angela."

Booth studied his sandwich. "I don't really wanna talk about that right now, okay? Can't we just eat our meal in peace?"

"I guess." Aubrey ate a handful of french fries as he shook his head. "I mean, you're happily married, right? Does it bother Dr. B if you feel better having a routine every night?"

"We're eating our meal in peace, remember?", Booth growled. "I don't want to hear about your woman troubles."

"It's not as if I don't care about Angela. I really do like her. It's just that she's so...demanding. She gets bored so easily. She wants things to be new, exciting, and different all the time, and I just can't keep up with that. Sometimes I want to just come home and eat my dinner in peace."

"Exactly! In peace!" Booth glared at his partner before his expression softened a bit. "Listen, Angela's used to being able to come and go as she pleases, okay? She does what she wants, when she wants. You may have to loosen up a bit if you want to keep her happy."

"Yeah, but I've got plans for my life, you know? I have goals, and I know what I have to do to achieve those goals. I know what I want to do in a few years, and maybe even further into the future." Aubrey took a bite of his sandwich. "Angela just sort of drifts from one day to the next without knowing where she's going or what she's doing that day. She doesn't like to commit to plans until the last minute. I can't pin her down on anything. She just wants to go with the flow, being creative and artistic, without worrying about what the future may bring."

"Well, what's so wrong with that? Maybe you should go with the flow yourself from time to time. Let her take charge every so often. Just close your eyes and jump in feet first." Booth sipped his coffee and shrugged a shoulder at his partner. "It might be fun once in awhile. After all, she is a beautiful woman, right? You know you enjoy that creative streak…especially in the bedroom."

Aubrey nodded in agreement. "She's gorgeous, and we have a good time together, but I wonder if I don't need a little bit more. I'm not sure life should be about glamour and fun all the time. Maybe I like my old fuddy duddy routine too much, having the comfort of knowing what's going to happen from day to day, but it keeps me focused. I don't understand why I constantly have to be in a creative uproar with her. Why isn't it enough for her to know I support her in her art? Instead of being happy with that, there's stuff from all of her partially completed projects lying around all over the apartment because she flits from one thing to the next with no plans to finish any of the things she's started."

"Whatever. I think you're just afraid that you might like living in the moment just a little too much, so you're stuck in a rut." Grabbing the bill for lunch, Booth nodded toward the door. "Come on, let's go. We've got to go do that interview on the Albers case."

"Yeah. Let's go." Aubrey slid some bills under his plate for the tip, still unsure where his relationship with Angela was going.

Oooooooooo

The next morning a surprise was waiting for Brennan and Angela in the lab. Two new employees were joining the staff.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan...Ms. Montenegro...I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Jack Hodgins, and Ms. Jessica Warren. Dr. Hodgins is an entomologist…"

"Just call me Hodgins, please, Dr. Saroyan." The man wore an impish grin as he shook hands with Brennan and Angela. "Nice to meet you, ladies…"

Cam cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Ms. Warren is a few credits short of a doctorate in forensic anthropology, Dr. Brennan. I think she'll be a valuable assistant for you."

Brennan was skeptical. "We'll see. Come along, Ms. Warren. Let's see how much you know…" The two forensic scientists headed for the bone storage room.

Hodgins wasted no time in getting to know Ms. Montenegro as she helped him move some boxes into his new office. His blue eyes twinkled as he explained his fascination with bugs, plants, and slime. "Would you believe me if I told you we can use the stage of a maggot's development to tell when someone has died? Here, let me show you." He pulled up a picture on the computer at his station. "See? A maggot says the victim died three days ago. When I look at all of the insect evidence present, I can make a picture of when, where, and sometimes how a person died. The same thing goes for mold spores."

"Really? That's crazy." Angela peered over his shoulder at the monitor. "That's so cool." She picked up a small petri dish from one of the boxes. "What's this?"

"Oh, that's nothing…" Hodgins took the dish from her and smiled bashfully. "It's just a little project I've been working on. I'm hybridizing slime molds to make them produce different scents. See? This one smells like lemons." He let her take a whiff from the dish. "I think eventually this can be used as a type of self perpetuating air freshener."

"You made that?" Angela was very impressed. "I can't imagine doing something like that...manipulating an organism so it smells different."

"All it takes is a little 'outside the box' thinking and a knowledge of how to insert a DNA sequence into an organism's genes. I can create all sorts of scents. Look, this one smells like roses." Hodgins was pleased to have such an avid listener. "I guess I'm kind of like a mad scientist. I like to tinker with stuff and invent things as a hobby. I'm working on making a rubber pad that will allow glassware to bounce instead of shatter when it hits the floor." He watched his new friend from the corner of his eye, appreciating how attractive she was. "So you're a forensic artist?"

"Yeah, I do reconstructions from skulls." She smiled coyly as she noticed Hodgins watching her. "I've also developed several different kinds of computer applications for use in the lab. I like creating things like that...I like to find new ways to approach old problems...kind of like your inventions, I guess."

She turned and was surprised to realize how close Hodgins was standing to her. His blue eyes and friendly smile under his blonde beard made him so attractive, as did his sturdy build. "I...I should go, Dr. Hodgins…I have another facial reconstruction to do..."

"Really? I think you should stay longer." He took her hand and looked into her eyes. "I'd really like to get to know you better. Perhaps we can invent our own kind of fun."

"I...I'm in a committed relationship with someone.", Angela said in an apologetic tone. "Maybe we can be friends, though. I'd like to hear more about your new slime molds."

"Of course. And if you ever change your mind…" He winked at her as he turned back to his computer. "I'll be right here waiting…"

"Yeah. I'll let you know." Angela left the room quickly, unsure of why her heart was pounding so wildly. She'd never experienced that kind of rush of adrenaline with Aubrey, and it was very confusing. Struggling to keep her emotions in check, she slowly walked to her office to consider what had just happened..

Oooooooooo

Aubrey slid his ID card into the platform's monitoring system and quickly climbed the steps, stopping suddenly when he realized the female scientist working there wasn't Brennan.

"Um...could you tell me where Dr. Brennan is?" Aubrey tapped his foot impatiently. "I need to get some papers from her...wow! You're not Dr. Brennan, are you? You're...a pretty girl..."

"Well, hello to you, too…" The young woman leaned over to look at his ID card. "...Agent Aubrey. Dr. B had to go to her office for a few minutes, but she was expecting you." Pulling off her gloves, the scientist handed a stack of papers to the dumbfounded agent. "Here you are. She said if you had any questions about the information, you could email her."

"Uh...yeah. Email her. Right. What did you say your name is?" Aubrey cringed, realizing that his efforts to be suave and sophisticated around this beautiful woman were failing miserably. "I'm James Aubrey."

"Yes, I know. I just read that on your ID. I'm Jessica Warren. I'm going to be working with Dr. B while I finish up my PhD in forensic anthropology."

"PhD? Really? That must be a lot of hard work." Sighing, Aubrey bit his lip. "Of course, you know that it's a lot of hard work…" God, could he possibly embarrass himself any more than he already had? "What I mean is, I'm impressed that you're able to take on so much work. It's not an easy thing, you know?" Pursing his lips, he shook his head, wondering why he was so tongue tied around this scientist.

She giggled as she brushed her ponytail over her shoulder. "Yes, I do know that, but if someone wants to reach a goal, they have to put in the work to get there. I want to teach forensics at a major university some day, just like Dr. Brennan does now. That means I have to work in a lab to get practical experience, get my advanced degree, get a job as an anthropologist and work in the field for a few years, and do all of that while taking more advanced coursework. It'll take a lot of time, but it'll be worth it." She grinned at him as she looked him over from head to toe. "But that doesn't mean I don't like to have fun. It's just that I have a routine when it comes to doing my work and achieving what I set out to do. It sounds silly, but I schedule my fun as well. It's easier that way."

"Yeah, I can see that. It actually makes a lot of sense to do things that way." Aubrey grinned at the attractive redhead. "I have goals, too. I want to make Deputy Director of the FBI within the next 5 to 7 years, if not sooner, and maybe even go further in the Bureau later in my career. I have my law degree, so maybe I can work up through the Department of Justice if I want. I think I might like to be a judge someday…" Aubrey paused as he realized he'd never even told Booth that much about his dreams. "...or maybe run for Congress. I don't know. Right now I'm just trying to get a handle on being a Special Agent in Charge, taking care of my own division."

"That sounds interesting." Jessica flashed a bright smile at him. "Hey, maybe we could go have a cup of coffee together...you know, you could fill me in on what all goes on at the FBI so I can decide if I want to work for them some day."

Aubrey shook his head sadly as he gazed into Jessica's beautiful green eyes. "I can't. I'm sorry...I'm in a relationship with someone, and I'm not sure she'd understand if we did that…"

"Oh, I see." She shrugged a shoulder as she nodded. "Well, lucky her. I guess I'll see you next time you're here at the lab."

"Yeah, I guess so. Hey, thanks for the papers." He turned and walked down the stairs slowly, wondering if Jessica had realized the effect she'd had on his pulse rate. This was so much different than what he'd ever felt with Angela. It was like Jessica completely understood him. Unsettled, he left the Jeffersonian to go hide in his office at the Hoover so he could think things over.

Oooooooooo

"Hey, James." Angela slid into a chair across from Aubrey at their usual table. "Thanks for meeting me here this afternoon."

"No problem. I'm never too busy to see my favorite artist", he said. He wondered if she could hear the discomfort in his voice. "What's up?"

"We need to talk." Angela hated to start a conversation with that phrase, but it seemed like the best thing to do was to be honest. "About us."

"Yeah, I know." Sighing as he looked at his girlfriend, Aubrey shook his head. "It's not working, is it?"

"No...no, it's not." Angela studied her coffee cup. "It hasn't for a long time, but I don't know why…"

"I don't think we did anything wrong, you know?" He smiled gently at the woman across the table from him. "I think we just want different things out of our lives, and we have different ways to get there. I'm a boring fuddy duddy FBI agent…"

"...and I'm a wild and crazy artist." She laughed softly as he smirked at her. "I think you're a lot of fun, Aubrey, and I like you, but…"

"...but it's not enough, is it? You're right. It's not." Aubrey patted Angela's hand. "I need something more, too."

"So we're breaking up, right?" Angela smiled Aubrey. "So we won't be a couple, but we can still be friends, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. This is a no fault break up. I don't hate you, and you don't hate me, right?"

"Right. You're a great guy, Aubrey. I don't think I could ever hate you." Angela sighed in relief. "So…."

"So, Hodgins, right? I think he's a great guy, too, and he's got enough creativity in him to make you happy." Aubrey winked at Angela. "You thought I didn't know, didn't you?"

"I knew that you knew something was up, just like I knew that you knew that I knew something was up with you. That's really confusing, isn't it?" They both laughed. "So, Jessica, right? I mean, she's got goals and a plan for her life, but she's just wild enough to get you out of your boring routine."

"Yeah, I think so. She's really focused, but I think I can get her to make time for me." Aubrey sat back in his chair and chuckled softly. "I really enjoyed my time with you, Angela. Hodgins better take good care of you…"

"He will if he knows what's good for him. I think Jessica will be good for you, James."

"I do, too." He finished his coffee. "So, when are we gonna let everyone know what's going on? Want me to send out an email?"

"No! Don't be silly." Angela rolled her eyes at him. "I think most people will figure it out when they see us with different people." She checked her phone. "Listen, I've got to get back to the lab. Brennan's still bugging me for that facial reconstruction. I'll see you around, okay?"

"Yeah." Aubrey stood up and gave Angela a kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He smiled to himself as he watched her walk away. "Easiest break up I ever had."

Oooooooooo

"So Aubrey and Angela broke up?" Booth nodded at his wife. "I think that's a good thing. I'm not sure they were all that happy together."

"I was surprised at how calm they both seem about the situation, Booth. They've been quite civil towards each other."

Booth handed Brennan a glass of wine. "Well, they're both smart. I think they both came to the conclusion that neither one was completely happy in their relationship." Sitting down on the sofa beside his wife, Booth put his arm around her. "However, I think they would've tried to work things out if they hadn't had a catalyst to push them into making a change."

"You used a science term, Booth! How sweet." Brennan chuckled at Booth's pretend scowl. "Angela seems to be much happier with Hodgins than she ever was with Aubrey."

"Aubrey seems to be head over heels over Jessica. So, all's well that ends well." Booth grinned at his wife. "How do you like that? Science and Shakespeare all in the same evening."

"You are definitely an exceptional man, Booth. I can't imagine feeling the same way about any other man." Brennan snuggled close to her husband. "You know, I was telling Angela about how you make my morning routine so pleasant…"

"Bones! Do you really have to tell her everything?" Booth was horrified.

"Yes, because at the time I was bragging about you, so I was setting myself up as the Alpha female, but that's not the point. I was wondering if you'd like to help me with my evening routine as well."

"Of course, Bones. As your husband, it's my duty to satisfy your need for a routine."

"Excellent. Will you also be able to demonstrate your creativity as well?"

He quickly rose from the sofa and took her hand. "Yep. We'd better get going. You know what they say...the sooner a routine is established, the better it works."


	6. Chapter 6 The Camping Trip

_A/N: For this story we were supposed to start a one shot with the sentence 'This might burn a little' and I chose to end it with 'and that's why you never drive through a Civil War Reenactment.' This takes place about 10 years in the future. It's kind of silly, but that's what makes it fun. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._

* * *

"This might burn a little." Booth glanced at his son, Hank, as he threw another small log on the smoldering fire. "We'll see. It'll probably be good enough for roasting marshmallows anyway. Too bad our firewood got wet in the rain, but that's part of the fun of camping, right?"

"Yeah, right. Lotsa fun." Thirteen year old Hank was not impressed with his father's cheerful demeanor as they sat around a small smoky campfire in the damp dark wilderness on a Saturday evening. He rolled his eyes sarcastically at his father. "This camping trip has been loads of fun from the very start, right? I mean, who doesn't love fixing a flat tire out in the middle of nowhere. I practically busted a gut laughing when our sleeping bags got completely soaked because the tent leaked during a massive thunderstorm last night, and it's always a barrel of laughs to sit around in wet clothes all day, waiting for the rain to stop while we swat giant mosquitoes and watch out for rabid wild animals. You're right, Dad. This is great."

Narrowing his eyes at his son, Booth bit his lip to keep from chewing his son's ass for his snarky attitude. Instead, he tried once again to be cheerful. "Aw, c'mon, Hank...what's a little rain? So we got wet. It's not like we're gonna melt out here. Anyway, all trips like this have their little stories about what went wrong, you know? That's what makes good memories. The memories we're making right now on this trip are gonna be ours forever."

"Maybe I don't want to remember this trip." Poking at the fire with a stick, Hank sat sullenly under his blanket, refusing to make eye contact with his father. "It's so boring out here. We don't have the internet, even with a hot spot, and my phone won't work, either. I feel cut off from the rest of the world. I mean, all of my friends are out doing a lot of fun stuff this weekend, and I have no idea what's going on with any of them. I'm gonna go back to school on Monday, and I won't know what they're talking about when they tell me about what they did while we were stuck out here in the rain."

Booth stared at the fire as he listened to his son's various complaints. Out of his three children, Hank was the one he understood the least. _That's probably because he's as smart as Bones is...maybe even smarter. I hope he never figures out how much smarter he is than I was at his age…_ Sighing softly, Booth slumped in his folding chair. He and his son were supposed to be spending some quality man to man time together while Bones and Christine went on a college tour weekend, but so far things had not gone well for the father/son outing. Remembering how much he'd loved camping trips with Pops and Nana, Booth had hoped this trip would be something that he and his son could enjoy together, but Hank seemed determined to be miserable despite his father's efforts to make the trip a success, and Booth was sorely disappointed. He finally decided that maybe it was time for a different tactic.

Forcing a smile, Booth chuckled. "Did I ever tell you the story about when your mother and I went camping together for the first time?"

"No." Hank shook his head. "I can't imagine Mom having a good time while she was camping."

"Hell, she used to go on remote digs all over the world, Hank, and she's experienced some really rough conditions while she was working to identify victims of genocide. She can handle it, being out in the wild like this, but she said that since she's experienced roughing it so many times in the past, she doesn't feel the need to do it quite as often as she used to." Booth shrugged as he threaded a marshmallow on a skewer. "Anyway, we wanted to take a little trip together before your sister was born, but we didn't want to go far, so we rented one those little pop up tent campers and went out to a forest in Virginia to spend the weekend."

"You mean like the campers that look like a rectangle until you pop up the top and open out the wings? Why not just use a tent?" Hank was becoming interested in the story in spite of himself.

"Well, you know your mom doesn't like snakes, and she decided that if the trailer was off the ground, there'd be less of a chance for snakes to bother us." Booth chuckled at the memory. "I thought we would've been just as comfortable in a tent, but I wanted her to be happy, so we got a camper."

"So what happened? Did a snake get into the trailer?" Hank leaned closer to his father, taking some marshmallows from the bag. "Tell me!"

"No, it wasn't a snake, and it didn't exactly get in the trailer. It was a skunk, and it was under the trailer…"

"Oh, my God! You mean a skunk sprayed your tent trailer? That's hysterical." Hank laughed out loud. "I bet Mom was furious, and I bet she decided it was your fault, too, right, Dad?"

"Yeah, of course she said it was my fault, although I don't remember why anymore. Anyway, it was early on a Sunday morning, and we were trying to pack up our stuff to go home, but we didn't want the skunk smell from our bedding and the rest of our stuff in the SUV, and we couldn't tow the trailer with the wings open to let it air out, so we just shoved everything in the trailer as quick as we could, and closed it. We were ready to go, but then your mom figured out she'd left her sweatshirt in the trailer and she wanted it, so we had to open it back up so she could get her sweatshirt out, but it just reeked, you know? I couldn't have that thing in my car…"

"Of course not." Hank nodded in agreement as he held his marshmallow over the fire. "Skunk smell is sulfur based, and it lasts for a long time unless it's chemically neutralized."

"Yeah." Booth smiled, proud of his youngest child. The boy was brilliant. "The problem was that your mom cried a lot when she was pregnant with Christine…"

"Because of the hormonal imbalances that often occur during pregnancies. I've read about that in biology class." Hank considered the situation thoughtfully. "You were treading on thin ice, weren't you?"

"Definitely. I didn't want her to cry all the way home about some damn sweatshirt. So what to do, right? Well, we rolled down the passenger side window and put the sleeves in it so that when the window was closed, most of the body of the shirt would be outside, hanging by the arms, which were on the inside. That way it would air out quicker, and she'd be able to wear it sooner."

"Very clever, Dad. Way to problem solve." Hank seemed genuinely surprised that his father had arrived at that solution. "Did it work?"

"Sort of. It was a white sweatshirt, and it flapped in the breeze as we drove down the road. What we didn't know at the time was that they were having this big Civil War reenactment out there in the area next to where we were camping. So we're driving down the road, minding our own business, pulling a skunky trailer while your mom's sweatshirt is waving in the breeze, having a good time...kind of like what we're having here, right?"

"Oh yeah. I bet Mom was pissed...er, I mean, I bet Mom was annoyed." Hank poked at the fire again, hoping his father wouldn't be irritated by a minor slip of the tongue. "So what happened?"

"You're right. Your mom was pissed, and I mean, really pissed, because she had to go to the bathroom, too. So I'm driving along, looking for one of the campground facilities so she can use the restroom, when all of the sudden there's this guy dressed as a Union soldier, sitting on a big black horse, right in front of us on the road, and he flags me down and tells me I'm about to get caught in the middle of a Civil War battlefield reenactment, and I have to turn around and go back the way I came. As you might imagine, your mom gave him Hell…"

"Wow! I wish I could have heard her. She can be really frightening when she's angry." Hank spoke from experience, having provoked his mother often as a teenager. "So then what happened?"

"Well, it was chilly because it was early morning, right? So your mom, being her normal stubborn self, decides she's gonna go squat behind a tree so she can relieve herself. Now, I was totally against that idea, but before I could stop her, she rolls down the window and grabs her white sweatshirt in case she gets cold and goes waddling down the road towards a grove of trees, waving it behind her." Booth laughed out loud as he remembered what happened next. "The guys who were playing the parts of the Rebels thought the guys playing the part of the Union soldiers were waving a white flag in surrender, and that's not what happened in the original battle, so the guys on both sides came out and met in the middle of the road, yelling at each other and waving their pretend guns around because each side thought the other side had ruined the reenactment. I was just sitting there, waiting for your mom to get back, and eventually she comes sashaying down the road, back to the car, wearing her skunky white sweatshirt, acting like everything's normal, and claiming that her sweatshirt didn't smell that bad."

"But it reeked, right?" Hank let go a belly laugh. "Mom was determined to wear that shirt no matter what…skunk smell or not..."

"Exactly. Anyway, the reenactors figured out what happened with the sweatshirt, and now it was their turn to be all pissy. They started swearing and getting all upset about us ruining their day, but I kept trying to tell them it wasn't my fault. I didn't know anything about their plans. I was just trying to leave, you know? One of the jokers pulls out his phone and calls a park ranger, and the rest of the guys surrounded the SUV so we couldn't leave, which was really dumb. I mean, the guys were just playing soldiers and they were unhappy that we ruined their game."

"You're right. That was stupid. So what did the ranger do?" Hank blew out the small flame on his marshmallow and took a sticky bite. "Did you get in trouble?"

"He gave me a warning and let me go. No big deal." Booth grinned at his son. "See, even when bad things happen on a trip, it still makes for good memories. Someday, maybe you'll take your kids camping, and you'll remember that you and I did the same thing, and you'll tell them about the time you sat out in the rain with your old man on a camping trip. Your mom still remembers that trip I was telling you about, even though she may not have the same fondness for the memory as I have. You know what she says whenever I tease her about it?"

Hank grinned back at his father, thinking that maybe, with more stories like this one, they might have fun on this trip after all. "No, what does she say?"

"She just shakes her head and says, 'And that's why you never drive through a Civil War Reenactment.'"

.


	7. Chapter 7 Love Story

These next five chapters are 100 word drabbles written for the Bonesology challenge.

* * *

LOVE STORY

He knew he'd always love her. He never doubted that.

She thought the sentiment was unreasonable. He couldn't possibly know that with certainty.

Was it Fate or Random Chance that brought them together?

Did it matter?

She didn't make things easy, and he almost gave up.

Like a rubberband, their relationship was stretched to the breaking point.

Apart. Together. Apart. Together again.

He didn't make things easy, either, but she finally realized what she wanted, and refused to give up.

Because of Fate or through Random Chance, they were meant to be together.

For thirty, or forty, or fifty years.

* * *

100 words on the dot!


	8. Chapter 8 Love Story chapter 2

_LOVE STORY CHAPTER 2_

* * *

Two strong hearts entwined with each other created one beautiful life together.

One life lived together makes both hearts stronger, and equal to any difficulty that might arise.

They knew they could withstand any storm as long as they had each other.

If they had each other, together they'd enjoy the best life had to offer.

Apart, each one was courageous. Together, they were braver still.

Apart each was a force to be reckoned with. Together they could conquer the world.

Together they would enjoy the fruits of their labors and their love.

For thirty or forty or fifty years.


	9. Chapter 9 Love Story Chapter 3

_LOVE STORY CHAPTER THREE_

Brennan lay asleep, Booth's arm flung over her body, his hand resting gently on her belly.

He felt his child moving within her as she slept, and he wept with joy at the beauty of the moment.

Two lives entwined together had created a new life.

Their love had given him more to love.

They were a family.

Neither one would ever be the same. This new love would change their world forever.

It made him love her more. He'd always known it would be this way. Every day he'd love her more.

For thirty or forty or fifty years.


	10. Chapter 10 Love Story Chapter 4

_Love Story Chapter 4_

He'd told her many times. No matter what happened, he'd always love her.

She'd finally allowed herself to believe it was true. She realized she'd loved him a long time. She wanted him to be her husband.

He wanted her to be his wife. He'd waited almost a lifetime for this moment.

It took some time and some trouble, but they finally stood together before their friends, glowing with happiness.

A promise was made.

That promise was kept.

They shared their vows and their love.

The chase was over, and both had won.

They'd be together for thirty, or forty, or fifty years...

* * *

105 words on this one. Oh well...


	11. Chapter 11 Love Story Chapter 5

_This is the end of my drabble story._

* * *

 _LOVE STORY CHAPTER 5_

The years passed quickly, but they barely noticed.

Their love and their family grew with time's passage.

They never paid much attention to time's flight, too busy living their eventful lives.

Then the day came when time passed him by.

He'd always loved her and she'd always loved him, but time waits for no one.

Smiling as he looked back over his life, he knew he'd kept his promise to her.

They'd happily spent their lives together, and even though she'd sadly go on living without him, he'd given her everything he had…

For thirty, and forty, and fifty years.


	12. Chapter 12 Denver

_A/N: a little bit of AU fluff set between seasons 2 and 3. The bonesology challenge this week was to write story about a character moving, and to include two elements from a list of options. I've included Parker, ice cream, and old movie, and possibly a lame joke. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Thanks._

* * *

It was a warm Saturday afternoon in September. Booth and Brennan were sitting together on a park bench, each enjoying an ice cream cone as Parker played nearby.

"It certainly didn't take Parker very long to finish his ice cream, Booth." Brennan took a small bite from her cone. "I can't eat mine as fast, or I get a headache."

"The boy is an ice cream eating machine." Booth grinned as he watched Parker go down the tallest slide on the playground. "He likes rocky road and cherry vanilla mixed together, too, which is just weird." Shuddering slightly, he licked a dribble from the side of his sugar cone. "Me, I just want two scoops good ol' chocolate."

An uneasy silence ensued, each one thinking about the same thing, but neither one wanting to discuss it. Finally Booth cleared his throat.

"It's hard to imagine that I'll be moving to Denver in two weeks." He wadded up the end of his cone in a napkin and got up to throw it away. Turning back to Brennan, he shrugged. "It's a great promotion, and Denver's a beautiful city. I've never spent too much time in the mountains, other than alpine training in the Rangers, so I'm looking forward to that. Who knows? Maybe I'll become a ski bum."

"It sounds like an excellent opportunity for advancement.", Brennan said as she studied her ice cream cone. "Assistant Director of the Major Crimes Division for the Denver field office...I'm very proud of you, Booth. You deserve it."

"Yeah? Thanks, Bones." He smiled nervously as he continued. "I hear they have a lot of great museums and other attractions out there in the Denver area. Maybe you can come visit me some time and we can go see some of them."

"Perhaps, although I plan to be quite busy here in DC. Since I won't be working with the FBI any more, I'm planning to teach some additional classes at the university, and I'll go on several digs in South America."

"Oh." Booth sighed softly as he listened to her plans. At first he'd resisted the idea of moving to Denver, wondering what his Bones would do without him, but now it seemed she was already planning to do several interesting things as their partnership ended. "I was surprised when Director Santana told me I'd been highly recommended for the new job. He was really adamant that I should go. It kind of hurt my feelings in a way. It was like they were pushing me out the door, like they wanted to get rid of me or something."

"I'm sure they would be glad to have you stay, Booth." Brennan watched Parker as he climbed on the monkey bars. "I imagine it was just a case of Director Santana trying to push you out of the comfortable nest at work so you could reach your full potential."

"Well, maybe it's that, but it could also be that he and I don't always get along very well. He's trying to push me out of the office, but not so I'll reach my full potential. He wants someone in my position that he can control better." Grimacing as he thought about how many times he'd butted heads with Santana, he shook his head. "I guess taking the new job is the best thing to do, otherwise I might end up getting fired from the FBI for telling that asshole what I really think of him."

"I can't imagine you actually doing that sort of thing at work, Booth. You're too much of a professional. That's why they want you to take the promotion." Brennan turned to look at her partner. "Is Rebecca going to cooperate with the new visitation arrangements?"

"Yeah, I think so. In some ways it'll be easier for both of us because we won't have to spend a lot of time worrying about who's supposed to have him for the weekend and shit like that. He'll come see me for Spring Breaks and three weeks in the summer, and we'll alternate years for having him for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'll also make arrangements to visit DC once in awhile, too. Maybe I can see you, too, while I'm here, if you're not out digging up some poor unsuspecting Aztec."

"If I know in advance that you're coming to visit Parker, I'll make arrangements to be here, Booth." Brennan ate the last bite of her ice cream and glanced at her watch. "I guess I should go home. I have a chapter to finish before next week." She stood up to leave. "We'll talk again before you move."

"Bones, wait…" Booth took her hand in his and nodded toward the bench. "Sit here with me just a few more minutes. I need to ask you something."

"Okay…" Brennan perched on the edge of the bench. "What is it you want to know?"

"Well…" Inhaling sharply, Booth looked out at the playground, trying to find the right words. "What do you think about me moving?"

"I think if it's what you want to do, you should do it." Brennan's brows knit as she thought about what he was asking her. "I thought I'd already explained that. It's a good move for you professionally, and I'm sure I'll be able to find something else to do with my time once you've moved."

"You did explain that, but that's not what I mean." He closed his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. "I guess I want to know what you _feel_ about it. Are you happy about it? About me moving?"

Brennan seemed thoroughly confused. "If you're happy, Booth, then I'm happy."

"So if I move, that will make you happy?" Booth hoped the stab of pain he felt wasn't evident in his voice. "You think I should go?"

"It seems to be a good promotion, and you've worked out all of your obligations in regard to Parker, so yes, if it will make you happy, you should go."

"But what will make you happy, Bones?", he said softly. "Aren't you gonna miss me at all?"

"Of course I'll miss you, Booth, but there are flights from Washington to Denver daily. If I want to see you, I can easily make the trip." Brennan chewed the inside of her cheek as she studied her shoes. She knew exactly what he was asking, but she didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. She didn't want him to leave, but she wasn't sure she wanted to be the reason he might stay. "I think it would make me happy if I knew you were happy."

"Okay, I get it. I should do what makes me happy. Right. Good idea." Feeling slightly annoyed at his failure to make himself understood, he abruptly stood up and called to his son. "Hey, buddy, we gotta get going."

"I'll see you before you leave town, Booth. Maybe we can have lunch at the diner for old time's sake." Brennan tried to smile as she tousled the little boy's hair. "Maybe Parker can come, too."

"That'll be great. That way we'll always have DC, right?" Seeing Brennan's questioning expression, Booth chuckled sadly. "Remember? _Casablanca?_ Rick and Ilsa? Never mind…I'll call you and we'll make plans for lunch, okay? See you later."

"Good bye." Watching Booth walk away with Parker, Brennan brushed a tear from her cheek. She kept telling herself that if Booth was truly happy, she'd be happy, too...but she knew that wasn't really true.

Oooooooooo

The next two weeks were a blur as Booth tried to make arrangements to move his belongings. A lot of his collectibles and knickknacks were going into storage until he could find a permanent place to live. Until then, he'd be living in some bland hotel in the outskirts of the city. He wondered if he'd be able to find a new place in Denver with as much personality as his little place above the liquor store.

The hardest part of moving from his apartment had been finding all of the pictures of him and Bones together. They looked so happy in most of them, and he'd allowed himself to believe that she felt something for him...something more than just a close friendship or a valuable partnership, but it seemed he'd been badly mistaken in that regard. It was time to accept that and go on with his life, and moving halfway across the country seemed to be the best way to do just that.

They'd made plans to have lunch together on the Saturday before he was supposed to leave. Booth and Parker found Brennan sitting there in their favorite spot, smiling bravely as they joined her.

"I'm glad to see you, Parker.", she began as they sat down at the table. "How are you?"

The little boy shrugged sullenly. "Not very good. I don't want my dad to move to Denver."

"But if your father moves to Denver, he'll be happy, right? We want him to be happy." Brennan grinned at the little boy. "Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, but I don't know why he can't be just as happy living here. That's where I am, and that's where all of his friends are. I don't understand why he has to go so far away."

"Parker…", Booth warned. "I've already explained this to you, remember? I'm getting a promotion. I'll have a better job, and I'll make more money, and that'll be good for everybody."

"But I thought you said that those things don't really make people happy, Daddy. You said being with other people who love you is what makes you happy...people like me and Dr. Brennan." Parker ate some french fries as he shook his head. "I don't care about the money. I don't want you to go."

"Dr. Brennan said I should do what makes me happy, so that's what I'm gonna do.", Booth said quietly as he looked across the table at her. "And it makes you happy, right, Bones?"

She hesitated for a few seconds before she answered. "I'm happy if you're happy, Booth."

"I see." He sighed, wondering if he'd ever really be happy if he wasn't with her, but she didn't seem interested in that sort of relationship. "Parker, I know you don't understand right now, but I need to take this job to make Dr. Brennan happy and to make me happy. It's not because I don't love you, okay? I'll see you every chance I get. Anyway, I think it'll only be for a couple of years. Then I'll move back home."

A few large tears rolled down Parker's cheek. "Okay."

"C'mon. This is supposed to be a celebration of good things to come. Let's have some ice cream…" Trying to be jovial, Booth forced a smile as he looked at Bones. "I want us all to be happy."

Oooooooooo

The apartment was completely empty. Booth took one last look around the little place he'd grown to love before he stepped out into the hallway and locked the door behind him. All that was left to do was to return the SUV to the FBI motor pool. Brennan had offered to give him a ride to the airport, and after waffling a little bit, he'd decided to take her up on her offer. She would pick up at the motor pool at 2 PM.

She was her normal punctual self as she met him at the motor pool gate. He threw his bags in the back of her car and got into the passenger seat. "Okay, let's roll. Denver, here I come." He gave her a sidelong glance. "I really appreciate the ride, Bones."

"I'm glad to help. However, this isn't a purely altruistic gesture on my part, Booth." She smiled shyly as she pulled out into traffic. "I've been thinking about the question you've been asking me recently."

"What question?" He looked out the passenger window, silently willing her to tell him what she was thinking.

"About what would make me happy, Booth. I've spent a lot of time thinking about that question over the last two weeks, and I think I finally know the answer."

Booth closed his eyes and sat back in the seat. "Good for you. I'm glad you figured it out."

"Yes, I am, too. It was hard, because, as you know, I don't always understand what I'm feeling in certain situations, but in this case, I think I have arrived at the correct answer." Brennan checked her rear view mirror before flicking her eyes in Booth's direction. He was getting restless and irritable, but she hoped he'd be open to hearing what she had to say.

"I'm afraid it may cause you some inconvenience, however, and you may have to explain things to Director Santana in order to accommodate me." She chuckled at his confusion. "I've decided that what would make me happy is to have you stay here in DC instead of moving to Denver. I don't want to give working with the FBI, and, more importantly, I don't want to give up working with you...or spending time with you. I want you to stay here with me, because having you around makes me very happy."

A grin started to tug at Booth's lips. "Very happy?"

"Extremely happy. So happy that if you need a place to stay while you look for a new apartment, you could stay with me. In fact, maybe you don't need to look for a new apartment at all. Maybe you could live in my apartment with me and keep me happy."

"Pull off over there, please." Booth pointed to a parking lot on the side of the road. As Brennan pulled into a slot, Booth pulled out his phone to cancel his flight reservation. "Okay, there we go. In order to make you happy, I'm gonna stay in Washington, alright? And if you're happy, I'm happy." He laughed as he reached across the seat to pull her close so he could give her a kiss. "I think we're both gonna be happy for a very long time."


	13. Chapter 13 Deep Cover Part 1

_A/N: this will be a short multi chapter fiction about Booth and Brennan, and perhaps some of their friends, going undercover at a high school to solve a crime. If you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._

* * *

Walking across the lab to his wife's office, Seeley Booth ran through his spiel once again, hoping that she'd see the logic in what he was going to propose. She'd become somewhat more flexible in her outlook on things over the years, but he knew this might be a stretch, and he wanted to have all of his facts in order to make the task at hand easier, especially considering how much she loved hard evidence. Inhaling to steady himself, he leaned against the door frame. "Hey, Bones."

Startled, Brennan looked up from her computer with a gasp. "Oh, Booth, it's you. Do we have a case?"

"Of course it's me. Were you expecting someone else?" He grinned as he came in and plopped down on the sofa. "Busy?"

"Editing a journal article. Do we have a case?" She closed the document on her computer and joined him on the sofa. "Or is this a social call?"

"Well, it's kind of a case. It's different than what we normally do, but the good news is that it involves going undercover." He winked at Brennan as he patted her knee. "You love undercover, right?"

"I usually enjoy it, yes." Slightly suspicious, she nodded in agreement. Booth seemed just a little too eager to in engage her participation in this undercover assignment. Usually she had to work hard to convince him that she should play a part in any sort of secretive investigation. "Tell me more…"

"Um, okay." Trying to get comfortable, he loosened his tie as he cleared his throat. "So, there was a bad car accident late Monday afternoon…"

"So two days ago?", Brennan asked. "Here in DC?"

"No, over in Alexandria. Anyway, the driver died this morning…"

"I'm sorry to hear that. When will the remains be brought to the lab?"

"They won't be. We know who she is and how she died. That's not the problem." Booth began to fidget nervously. "Abigail Denton was in the NSA...national intelligence, right? Her car hit a light pole in front of Mt. Vernon high school late Monday afternoon. She'd been there recruiting juniors and seniors for STEM degree programs at local universities. That was her cover...that she was a member of an organization sponsoring engineering scholarships for underrepresented groups in the sciences."

"Her car must've hit the pole at a very high rate of speed…", Brennan began. "...but I still don't understand where we fit in…"

"Yeah, the car's impact must've been tremendous. She was pinned in the wreckage for several minutes before the EMTs finally got through the rush hour traffic to assist her. She kept trying to talk to them as they were trying to peel her car apart...the unit captain said his men stated that she wanted to tell them about her phone, because she thought it had been stolen while she was at the school. That's why she'd gone back to the building...to look for it. She thought the last place she'd seen it was in the library…"

Brennan sighed audibly. "I'm sorry, Booth. I'm trying to be patient, but I don't understand why you're telling me this. It's unfortunate that such a bright young woman should suffer through such a horrible accident…" She paused as a thought occurred to her. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"It seems to be, but, of course, there'll be a thorough investigation. The ER doctor said she was only conscious for a few hours after they got her out of the car, and all she wanted to talk about was her phone. She didn't seem to remember the accident at all." Booth's expression was grim as he continued. "She lost consciousness later that evening and died of a subdural hematoma early this morning."

"I see." Brennan nodded. "That makes sense, I suppose...except for the undercover part…"

"Yeah." Tapping his foot nervously, Booth explained. "Caroline says the NSA wants the FBI to help look for the stolen cell phone. Seems it was her work phone, and it could allow someone who knew that they were doing to access some extremely sensitive documents related to national security…"

"Can't they shut it down remotely somehow?"

"Hell, I don't know." Booth shrugged as he checked his fingernails. "They just want someone to find the phone as soon as possible, but they don't want to make a big deal about searching the high school for it. If a whole bunch of guys in black suits invade a school building, even when classes are out for the day, it makes news. Kids would have the whole thing spread all over their Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, or whatever social media platform they use, and we don't want that kind of publicity in this situation. 'Dead fed loses important phone' doesn't sound good on television."

"So we're going undercover at the high school? Of course...that makes sense." Brennan sat back on the couch as she discussed their plans. "I can go undercover as a biology teacher…"

"Nope." Booth shook his head emphatically. "That ain't gonna work. If a new teacher shows up at the school unexpectedly, the kids all talk about it, and that draws too much attention to the case." He licked his lips nervously, avoiding eye contact with her as he prayed she wouldn't slap the shit out of him. "I'm gonna be the new janitor, and you're….gonna be...a lunch lady."

She gave him an incredulous stare. "A person with my intellectual abilities and education will be working undercover as a high school cafeteria worker? I don't believe it…"

Booth held up his hands to interrupt her. "Listen, I know it sounds strange, but like I said, we don't want to call attention to ourselves. Kids talk about their teachers all the time, but most kids ignore the cafeteria workers and the janitorial staff…it's like those people don't exist. Kids don't mind talking to each other around those folks, so they relax and act more natural than they do around their teachers, and they're more apt to say things they wouldn't normally say around the faculty. Janitors and lunch ladies don't usually pose much of a threat to their academic careers."

"I never did ignore those staff members!", Brennan began indignantly. "You know I had excellent rapport with Mr. Buxley during my time in high school!"

Booth hesitated slightly, not wanting to endanger his plan by saying the wrong thing about his wife's tender feelings toward her strange mentor. "I know, Bones, and I think that's great. I'm glad he was there for you when you needed him, but, if you think about it, you were probably the only kid who paid attention to him, right?"

After a few seconds of thinking over the situation, she nodded. "I suppose so."

"Exactly. Most high school kids wouldn't give a second thought to the janitor or the woman serving up their lunch, so they won't be afraid to act normal around us. They'll talk about stuff just like they'd normally do, and we'll be able to listen in pretty easily because they won't pay attention to us. That way we can not only look around the building, but we can maybe keep an ear out to see which kid managed to pick up a snazzy new phone on the sly." Booth reached over to take his wife's hand as he gave her a bright charm smile. "Your acting skills have improved a lot over the years, so I told Caroline I had no doubt that you'd be able to pull this off easily."

Grinning at her husband's blatant attempt to get what he wanted by applying flattery and sex appeal, Brennan finally nodded in agreement. "Alright, Booth...we can go undercover as a janitor and a lunchroom worker in this situation." Winking at him, she pinched his cheek. "Just make certain you get a key to the broom closet. I think it would be interesting to meet you there after my cafeteria duties were finished."

He laughed happily as he gave her a kiss. "You got it, lunch lady."

* * *

 _To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14 Deep Cover 2

Booth chuckled slightly at his wife's irritated expression as he walked around to her side of the care. "You look pretty cute in that smock, Bones. I think maybe you need to get one to wear around the house."

Brennan seemed slightly uncomfortable as she smoothed her stained floral apron over her pale blue uniform. "I certainly don't feel 'cute', Booth. In fact, I think this apron makes me look quite unattractive. However, I suppose this clothing is designed for utilitarian purposes as opposed to style, so it will be adequate for the job at hand." Scowling as she tried to poke some stray hair back under her hairnet, she paused to look at her husband's undercover costume. "Your attire seems to be much more fashionable."

He shrugged as he pushed the tail of his maroon tee shirt into the waistband of his jeans. "Yeah, well, luck of the draw, I guess. It seems janitors don't usually wear aprons around the school. This is one of the school's spirit shirts. I kinda like the color. Maybe I'll get one after we finish the case."

Appreciating how well the snug shirt accentuated her husband's physique, Brennan nodded in agreement. "I think I'd like that as well. Then you can wear it when we play school some evening after the children are in bed. I can be a teacher who's stayed after class one afternoon to grade papers, and you can be the very attractive janitor who comes to clean my classroom…"

"Bones!" Booth pretended to be shocked as they walked toward a red brick building next to the high school's gymnasium. "You shouldn't be flirting with me like that while we're working! I gotta be able to concentrate, you know?"

"We're undercover, Booth. I always flirt with you while we're undercover." She grinned as she patted his gluteus. "Don't you remember? Las Vegas? Roxie?"

Exhaling softly, Booth tried to look stern as visions of his wife in a low cut red halter dress danced through his head. "Oh, yeah...of course I remember that, but we have work to do now. Maybe we can relive some of those glory days later this evening, okay? Right now we've got to be serious." He opened the door and gestured for his wife to walk ahead of him. "The head of campus security isn't very happy about us being here on his beat, so we've gotta act professional. We can play later."

"Oh, okay." Brennan tried to be serious, but the absurdity of the situation kept creeping up on her. Giggling as she fidgeted with her costume, she shook her head. "I hope this case will be solved within a few days. I'm not sure how long I can stand to wear a hairnet."

"Yeah, soon would be nice. Okay, here we are...room 11B." Booth stopped and knocked on a doorframe of an empty office, calling out expectantly. "Hello? Officer Kimble?"

"Have a seat. I'll be with you shortly.", a voice growled from an adjacent room. After a minute or two, a man wearing a police officer's uniform strode into the room and sat down at his desk, putting his feet up as he leaned back in his chair and glared at them skeptically. "You guys the feds?"

Flashing his badge, Booth nodded. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this here's my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan…"

"Yeah, whatever. I'm duly impressed, okay?" Snorting derisively, Kimble turned to his computer. "I'm still not sure why we have to turn our investigation over to some fancy federal cops. I don't get why this is such a big deal. After all, it's just a stolen phone, right? Kid stuff. I deal with that sort of shit every day at the high school."

"I guess that's probably true." Booth shrugged as he stuck his hands in his pockets, smirking at the man's grumbling. "I suppose that means you've already been able to locate Ms. Denton's missing phone, right? So me and my partner can just take the rest of the day off…"

Somewhat chastised by the sarcastic tone of Booth's question, the officer shook his head and laughed. "Nope, not yet. We've looked in all the usual places where kids dispose of that sort of stuff, but we haven't been able to lay our hands on the damn thing. It's crazy. It's like it just up and disappeared. But it's no big deal. We'll find it soon enough, and we don't need any feds to get in our way."

Annoyed with Officer Kimble's attitude, Brennan interrupted his complaint. "Given that Ms. Denton was here recruiting exceptional science and engineering students for prestigious universities, it seems likely to me that the thief was a young person who was extremely intelligent, and therefore unlikely to leave evidence in the 'usual' places, Officer Kimble." She turned to Booth. "Has the NSA tried to use one of those phone finder apps to locate the device?"

"Yeah, but they haven't gotten any hits on it yet. The guy I talked to over there said it's possible that the battery's dead, or it could be that the phone's been dismantled. Either way, the app hasn't helped them find it." He turned to Kimble and offered a smile as he tried to ease the officer's irritation. "Look, I understand that we're invading your turf, okay? If it was just an ordinary phone, it'd be your case all the way, but, as it is, the NSA has asked the FBI to assist in locating the phone because Ms. Denton had used it for some of her official government business. How about this? When we figure out what happened to it, we'll make sure to mention that your security team was instrumental in cracking the case. It'll be good publicity for you guys, okay? Deal?"

Officer Kimble rubbed his chin as he thought over the proposition. "Sure, I guess that'll work." With honor being satisfied, he rose from his seat. "Let's go get you some employee ID's, and then we'll go check in at the high school's attendance office."

Oooooooooo

Booth and Brennan were ushered into the principal's office by Officer Kimble. "Dr. Brown, these are the feds I told you about. They're gonna work undercover here at the school to see if they can figure out what happened to that fancy phone Ms. Denton lost right before she died."

Offering a cautious smile, the woman gestured toward some chairs opposite of her desk. "I hope we can get this terrible business over with quickly. I don't want your investigation to affect the school's reputation or student morale."

Pursing his lips slightly, Booth nodded. "We'd like to solve the case quickly, but we have to be thorough. We hope that being undercover will make it easier to figure out what happened to the phone, because students won't mind talking about things while we're around. They'll ignore us, but we can pick up some information."

"I see." The principal fidgeted with a pencil for a few seconds before continuing. "Um...about what happened to Ms. Denton...it was an accident, right? The authorities don't suspect foul play, do they? I hope none of the students were involved in causing her death..."

Brennan shook her head. "Unfortunately, her death was most likely caused by inattentive driving. The officer investigating the accident has postulated that she was trying to find the missing phone in her tote bag when she drove off the road and then overcorrected, causing her car to spin out of control and then ram into the pole. Of course, that's speculation, but, based on the physical evidence at the scene of the accident, it does seem to be a reasonable hypothesis."

Dr. Brown sighed softly. "That's so sad. She was a truly exceptional young woman, and she inspired many students to consider careers in science and engineering. I know that some of the girls are having a very hard time dealing with her loss." Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Very well. I think your undercover project should begin immediately. I'll take you to the cafeteria, Dr. Brennan...they should be getting ready to serve lunch soon. Agent Booth, you'll be working with our lead janitor, Mr. Englund."

"We appreciate your cooperation, Dr. Brown.", Booth said quietly as he stood up to leave. "We're anxious to start…"

"Of course. Shall we go?" Rising from her desk, the principal turned to Officer Kimble before she followed Booth and Brennan out of her office. "I'll talk to you later, Dennis…"

"You got it, Sweet Pea...I mean, Dr. Brown…" Blushing slightly, the security officer grinned as he winked at her. "I'll see you soon…"

Oooooooooo

Mrs. Murphy, the imperious cafeteria manager, was practically beside herself as she regarded her new dietary assistant. "I can't believe personnel sent you over here so late in the day! How did they think I'd be able to teach you everything you need to know on such short notice? Ridiculous!" She moved closer to read the new assistant's name tag before glaring at her through her glasses. "Tempe, huh? Well, Tempe, I hope you learn quickly because I'm gonna have to train you on the fly. It's almost time for the first round of meals to be served."

"I can assure you, Mrs. Murphy, that I'm a very quick learner." Brennan pulled on some plastic gloves. "What would you like me to do?"

"I think I'm gonna put you on veggie duty." Pointing at the stainless steam table, Mrs. Murphy continued as she rushed to pull on some gloves. "Serving lunch here is like working on an assembly line. Maxine will put a spoonful of spaghetti and some meat sauce on one of these plates and add a roll before she hands the plate to you. Then you ladle on some of these peas and carrots before handing it off to Vivian…see? Just enough to fill in that little well there. It takes a little practice, but it's not like it's rocket science. We have to move the trays through the line quickly. Nothing worse than a bunch of starving sophomores waiting to get fed.."

Brennan watched in disgust as the mushy peas and carrots were slapped onto the tray. "Those vegetables are extremely overcooked, to the point of being soggy and most likely tasteless. I would imagine most of their nutritional value has been lost. Why don't you serve fresh carrots instead?"

"Your job is to serve the food, Tempe, not to question the menu choices I make." Mrs. Murphy put a spoonful of vegetables on another plate. "Fresh vegetables take too long to prepare. With these we just have to open a can and pour it into a big pot to heat them up. Much easier and less time consuming. Hey, Vivian...are you ready to add the applesauce? Let's go. The herd will be here any minute…"

Not easily deterred, Brennan continued her critique of the luncheon menu. "This meal seems to be really high in carbohydrates and sugars. I suppose that's because adolescents require energy to support their growth spurts. However, I'm concerned about the amount of fat in the meat sauce. Perhaps you should consider using plant based protein instead…"

"Do you wanna work here, or do you wanna yak? We ain't got time for both." Mrs. Murphy stood with her hands on her hips as she glared at Brennan. "Well?"

Stifling her urge to scold the supervisor for being so rude, Brennan bit her lip, reminding herself that she was working undercover. "I'd rather work. I need the money."

"Great. So shut up and get busy. The bell that just rang dismissed the first wave of kids to lunch. Here they come…"

Oooooooooo

Mr. Englund quickly surveyed his new janitor and shook his head. The guy was brawny enough, and maybe he'd worked with his hands before, but he wasn't the average janitorial type. This guy looked like someone who usually wore nice clean clothes to work. Shrugging off his doubts, Mr. Englund decided it didn't really matter. He could use an extra set of hands, especially when it came to cleaning up after lunch.

Armed with a large broom, a small bucket filled with soapy water, and a rag, Booth began to clean up after the troop of howler monkeys that was the sophomore class. As the junior class came in, filling the opposite side of the large cafeteria, Booth chuckled to himself as he watched the students' interactions. There weren't many animals on the earth as horny as a sixteen year old boy, and it was a lot of fun to see the would be studs preening and showing off as they tried to get the giggling girls to notice them. The girls, of course, acted as if they weren't impressed, when in actuality, they were assessing which males stood out from the crowd as being suitable mates. _Jesus…_ Booth muttered to himself as he swept up around the tables. _I sound just like Bones…._

He caught a glimpse of his wife out of the corner of his eye and grinned. He knew she'd deny it, but she was obviously struggling with her undercover assignment as a cafeteria worker, especially since Mrs. Murphy was harassing her mercilessly. _Better get this job over with before Bones goes bonkers and slaps the shit out of Murphy…_

A large group of noisy boys laughed and talked loudly as they moved toward the area of the room they apparently considered to be their territory. After putting their trays down, one of the boys pointed to a medium sized cardboard box sitting in the middle of the table. "Hey, Henderson...it looks like you've got a secret admirer."

Obviously the alpha male of his pack, Chris Henderson slowly strolled over to the table and picked up the box to inspect it. He turned to survey his minions, all of whom were breathlessly awaiting his pronouncement about the proffered gift. "Cool. You're right, Jared. My name's on here but it doesn't say who it's from. Maybe that's on the inside. I hope it's from Lydia Fraley. She is so hot…" As his friends watched, Henderson removed the tape and carefully lifted the lid to look inside.

Suddenly there was a small explosive pop, and ketchup sprayed out of the box, covering Henderson's football jersey as well as his face and hair. "What the fuck?" Angry and embarrassed as his friends roared with laughter, he tried to wipe the sticky red liquid from his light gray jersey, only to have it smear into large red stains instead.

"Hey, Chris...don't worry, you look good as a redhead!" Jared grinned at his buddy while nudging the boy sitting next to him. "I don't know, Bart. What do you think? Is that little gift from Lydia?"

"Nah. Lydia's cute, but she's not smart enough to put something like that together. You must've made somebody really mad, Chris…" The other boys all clamored to agree.

Jared laughed again. "You messed with the wrong girl, Chris. That little item was from a jilted girl or a jealous boyfriend."

Curious as to what had caused all the commotion, Booth waved at Coach LaSalle and pointed to the mess. "I think we've got a problem over there…"

Groaning softly, the coach shook his head. "Jesus...not Henderson again…" The men walked through the gathering crowd of students to investigate the situation as the boys continued to loudly tease their ketchup covered friend.

Looking up at the coach as he tried to wipe the ketchup from his hair, Henderson stammered out an explanation. "I just opened that box, and it sprayed shit all over me…"

"Yeah, right. Probably a gift from one of your many female admirers, right?" Coach LaSalle was grim as he surveyed the dirty table. "I told you to be careful...that you'd cross the wrong person, and I bet that's exactly what happened. You fellas need to move away from the table so Mr. Booth can clean up this mess...everyone except you, Chris. You need to help him."

"But I didn't do nuthin'...", the boy whined. "C'mon, Coach. I ain't no janitor. This ain't my fault…I don't wanna have to clean...everyone's staring at me."

"You did something wrong, Chris, but whatever it was, you probably didn't give it a second thought. That's what happens when you use people for your own gain." The coach turned to Booth. "Sorry about the mess, sir. Please make sure this young man assists you in cleaning up."

"Yeah...no problem." Booth handed the dishrag to the boy before going to retrieve the mop bucket from the janitorial closet.

"Booth…", Brennan whispered as she passed him in the kitchen. "The box that the boy opened...was it some sort of improvised explosive device?"

"I guess so...it was like a fancy ketchup bomb." Glancing around the kitchen to make sure they weren't being watched, he moved closer to her. "Why?"

"Because it's possible that an engineering student could've used a cell phone to make a timer. We need to collect what's left of the box to see if Ms. Denton's phone was used in the bomb's construction…"

"Really? Do I really have to dig through all that trash in all of those barrels to get all of those little pieces? C'mon, Bones…". Booth gave his wife a charm smile. "I mean, I'm a special agent, not a squint…"

"I know, but Hodgins isn't here to collect the evidence. However, he can analyse it once we return it to the lab." She looked over her shoulder before turning back to him. "I'm sorry, Booth, but we all have to make sacrifices in our work. After all, I have to work for Mrs. Murphy…"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Okay, I'll take care of it. Hey, when does your shift end?"

"In two hours. We have to feed the rest of the students and clean the kitchen."

"Good. I'll take my break then and we can compare notes."

Brennan grinned. "A good idea. Perhaps by then you'll be able to find a suitable broom closet."

Booth was scandalized. "Bones! We can't make out in the broom closet!"

"Would you prefer the backseat of a car in the parking lot?", she purred, running her fingers across his acromia.

Knowing he was beaten, Booth smiled at his wife. "Broom closet it is…"

* * *

A/N: _to be continued..._


	15. Chapter 15 Deep Cover Part 3

_A/N: this is the last chapter of my undercover story. If you have time to review, I'd appreciate it. Laura._

* * *

It was two o'clock when Brennan knocked on the door of the janitor's tiny office. "Booth?"

"Yeah." He opened the door and then stepped out of the way so she could enter. "Welcome to my humble abode." Chuckling, he gestured grandly at the space, which was not much bigger than an average sized walk in closet. "It ain't much, but I like it." He pulled a side chair over beside the small desk in the back of the room before sitting down himself. "You look beat."

"I have to admit...I'm surprised how physically demanding it is to stand several hours in a cafeteria serving line." Smiling, she sighed audibly as she sat down. "It was quite an eye opening experience. I knew adolescent boys needed to take in a lot of calories to support their rapid growth spurts, but…"

"But it's hard to imagine just how much they eat until you see them in action, right?" Booth laughed at his wife's surprise. "I don't know how Pops managed to keep me and Jared fed. I'm kinda glad Rebecca has to buy the groceries for Parker."

"Perhaps we should begin a grocery savings plan for Hank." Shaking her head as she laughed, Brennan continued. "Some of the boys came back for second helpings, and they probably would've wanted a third helping if they could've gotten it, but Mrs. Murphy forbade that."

"I bet those boys don't argue with Mrs. Murphy, right? I imagine she doesn't take any shit from anybody." Booth smirked at Brennan, wondering how his strong willed wife had clashed with the strong willed cafeteria manager. "Did you two get along okay?"

Brennan pulled off her hairnet, hesitating slightly as she ran her fingers through her auburn waves. "We had a few differences in opinion, mostly about the type of food that was on the menu. The vegetables that they served at lunch were horribly overcooked, and it seems that most of them ended up in the trash. I tried to explain that it would be more cost effective to serve something more appealing, but she vehemently disagreed." Seeing Booth's amusement, Brennan glared at him as she continued. "However, Mrs. Murphy is excellent at managing the logistics of feeding so many people in a very short period of time, so while I may disagree with her menu choices, I have to admit that she seems to have other useful skills."

"That's true. What she does is pretty amazing, given the time frame. They must feed several hundred kids a day, and based on the mess they made in the cafeteria, very few of them have learned any table manners." Booth grimaced as he looked at the stains on his shirt and jeans. "There was stuff everywhere."

"Yes, I know. I had to rinse the trays before they were loaded into the dishwasher, and it was very unpleasant." She pointed to her apron. "At least now we have matching outfits. Have you had a chance to look at the security video from the cameras in the cafeteria area?"

"Not yet. I figure we can do that in the morning, and then Officer Kimble can help us identify any kids who might be involved in suspicious activity." Seeing her surprise, Booth snickered. "School's gonna be out for the day in approximately an hour, so we might as well wait until tomorrow. Anyway, I've got other plans for this afternoon." Taking Brennan's hand, he patted his knee, indicating that he wanted her to sit on his lap. "You promised me a good time in the broom closet, remember?"

"Booth!" Quickly sliding into her husband's lap, Brennan giggled as his hand wandered up under her apron. "What about the head janitor? Aren't you afraid Mr. Englund will walk in on us?"

"Nah...he's taking advantage of the fact that he had extra help today, so he left early to run an errand. He won't be back until tomorrow morning." Caressing his wife gently, he pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. "Hmm...you smell good...like mac and cheese, right?" He laughed as she pretended to scowl at him. "We don't have to head for home right away, do we? Didn't you say Angela was going to pick up the kids after school?"

"I told her we'd be home by four this afternoon…" She ran her hands over her husband's chest, once again appreciating the well defined musculature under his tee shirt. "What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "Quarter after two. We've got plenty of time…"

Brennan gave him a sultry smirk. "I agree. After working so hard being undercover today, we deserve a break, don't you think?"

Booth nodded in agreement as he kissed her. "Definitely…."

Oooooooooo

At ten o'clock the next morning, a nervous young man and his father sat in the waiting room outside the principal's office. After watching him fidget for a few minutes, Booth turned to Officer Kimble. "So that's him?"

"Yeah...Leon Kelso. Here's the video…" Pulling up the frame on his tablet, Kimble handed it to Booth. "That's him putting the box on the table."

"Okay, let's see what he has to say."

Leon and Mr. Kelso sat down at a large round table in Mrs. Brown's office. After the introductions were made, Booth cleared his throat as he pointed to the picture on the tablet's screen.

"Leon, why don't you tell me about this picture here."

"I swear…", the boy stammered. "I didn't know what was in that box. I was just doing a favor for someone…"

"A favor?", Brennan asked, obviously surprised. "You placed an improvised explosive device on the table as a favor to someone? Who?"

"Look, it's not like that. I really didn't know what it was." Leon squirmed in his seat as his father glared at him. "Okay, here's what happened. I'm making a really bad grade in chemistry, and we've got this big test coming up, so I asked this girl in my English class to help me study. She's the queen of the nerd herd, but she's really smart, and she's also kinda cute. Anyway, I asked her if she'd help me, and she said she would, but I had to do something for her first. I had to put that shoe box on the table where Chris Henderson eats lunch everyday. It didn't seem like a big deal. It sounded harmless, okay? I didn't know it was going to go off like that…"

Dr. Brown tapped her well manicured nails on the table. "Who gave you the box, Leon?"

"Um…" The boy chewed the inside of his cheek for a minute. "It was Annie Sanchez." Leon's shoulders drooped as he sat back in his chair. "Jesus, she's in a lot of trouble, right? I hope this doesn't mean I'm gonna fail chemistry."

After dismissing Leon and his father, Dr. Brown grimaced at Booth and Brennan. "Annie Sanchez is an excellent student, and she's never been in trouble. I can't believe she'd do something like this."

"We need to talk to her as soon as possible." Booth crossed his arms across his chest. "We'll need to have her parents here, too…"

The principal nodded. "I'll take care of it immediately."

Oooooooooo

An hour later, a slender young woman entered the office and sat down at the table. Brushing her dark hair out of her eyes, she glowered at the adults seated across from her. "Let me guess. My dad couldn't come meet with us, right? He probably told you to do whatever you wanted and it was okay with him." Squaring her shoulders, she tried to look brave. "He's too busy with my stepmother and the new baby to worry about me. After all, I'm almost a grown up…"

"Annie…", Dr. Brown chided. "I'm so disappointed. I can't imagine why you'd do something like this to Chris Henderson…"

"Really? You wanna know why?", the girl asked in a petulant tone as she crossed her arms across her chest. "He's an awful bully, but nobody seems to care about that because he's such a good football player…"

Officer Kimble rolled his eyes at the angry girl. "I think you're just upset because you want him to be your boyfriend and he's not interested, so you decided to get even with him."

"Oh, please." Annie made a face in disgust at that thought. "Chris has a brain the size of a lima bean. His only skill is to run fast while he holds a football. Do you really think someone with my extensive intellectual capabilities would find someone like him attractive?"

"Annie, why don't you tell us what happened." Brennan nodded at the young woman across from her. "I know someone as brilliant as you are must've had a plan…"

"You're right. I did have a plan...and I was trying to get even." Biting her lip, the girl hesitated before she continued. "Chris is a terrible bully...always picking on kids he perceives as weaker than he is. His favorite target is Joey Goldsmith. He torments Joey every chance he gets."

Dr. Brown's brows knit with concern. "Why would Chris tease Joey?"

"Because Joey can't fight back." Annie picked at her thumbnail as she continued. "Joey's got Asperger's Syndrome, okay? He's really good at math and science, so we have some AP classes together, and we've become friends. He manages school stuff okay most of the time, but certain things bother him a lot, and they can set him off where he can't handle things. Chris likes to steal Joey's lunch, just because he can, I guess. So after that happened a few times, Joey told Mr. Englund, and Mr. Englund told Chris to give Joey his lunch back. Chris did, but only after he'd covered everything on the tray with what looked to be a gallon of ketchup, and then he told Joey it was blood. Joey just freaked out. He had a meltdown in the cafeteria and his resource teacher had to come get him and help him calm down. Joey was so embarrassed by acting like that in front of everybody, and now he has to eat lunch in his teacher's room. Henderson's behavior made me angry, so I decided to fix things."

"If you knew Joey was being bullied, why didn't you report it?", Dr. Brown asked angrily. "You know what the rules are around here…if you see something, say something..."

"Like you have time to listen!" Holding up her phone, Annie showed the adults at the table her calendar. "Here's a list of all the times I tried to see you, Dr. Brown. Whenever I came by your office, your secretary said you were in a meeting with Officer Kimble. I guess that's what people your age call it when you're hooking up with somebody, right?"

Sputtering angrily, Officer Kimble's face flushed as he shook his finger at the girl. "Now, you listen here, young lady…"

"Save it for later, Kimble." Booth's glare warned the officer to be quiet for the time being. "What did you do to fix things, Annie?"

"Well, I was talking to Ms. Denton about the whole Chris versus Joey situation, and she was very sympathetic. She told me that sometimes people have to take a stand against bad things...that I might be the only person Joey had to stand up for him. That was the day she died…." Annie choked back a sob. "She was in a hurry because she had some sort of appointment, and she'd forgotten her phone. I picked it up so I could give it to her the next day, but…." Inhaling deeply, Annie brushed a tear away. "Anyway, I couldn't give her the phone back, so I decided to use it to help Joey. I took what I needed from it and took the rest of the pieces home and hid them under my bed."

"No wonder we couldn't find it." Booth looked at Brennan, who nodded slightly. "Then what happened?"

"I rigged up a booby trap. I used a photosensitive cell and hooked it up to a timer using the battery and some of the chips from the phone to make the timer work. The timer was connected to a spring loaded mechanism, which was holding a container loaded with ketchup. After the lid was removed from the box and the light hit the cell, Chris had only a few seconds to inspect it before the trigger released the spring and ketchup splattered all over him. It seemed only right...after he'd teased Joey by covering his lunch with ketchup…."

"But it was a weapon, Annie." Dr. Brown shook her head in frustration. "I'm afraid this incident will force me suspend you for the rest of this semester and part of the next one. It looks like your plans to go to MIT may be ruined because you took matters into your own hands.."

Before Annie could protest, Brennan interrupted. "Dr. Brown, could we speak with you privately?"

Nodding hesitantly, the principal agreed. "Annie, will you please step into the waiting room?" After the young woman had left, Dr. Brown turned to Brennan furiously. "What could you possibly have to say in her defense? It's clear that she violated several school rules. Having a weapon on campus is an automatic suspension for at least ninety days."

"I understand, Dr. Brown, and I agree that she should be removed from the school's population so that no one else is in danger. However, I believe it will be hard to completely justify that sort of discipline, should she decide to contest her suspension, given that she has evidence that she tried to contact you multiple times to complain about her friend being bullied." Brennan shrugged as she looked at Booth. "What do you think, Agent Booth?"

"It would be a difficult situation if she were to mention at her hearing that she suspects that you and Officer Kimble are conducting a sexual liaison on school grounds...in your office...instead of paying attention to school business." Seeing both of them blush, Booth smirked slightly as he continued. "Look, I know Annie has to be disciplined, and I'm sure the school has a zero tolerance policy pertaining to weapons, but nobody really got hurt with the ketchup. It wasn't like she set out to actually injure someone, right? It wasn't malicious. It was more like a practical joke gone wrong, okay? So how about this? How about if instead of calling it a suspension for a weapon, you place Annie on homebound instruction for ninety days? Maybe require her to go to anger management counseling before she can come back, and make sure she and her father check in with you once a week? That way she's away from school, but she can keep up with her classwork at home. That won't look as bad on her final transcript as a suspension would. She might still be able to attend MIT that way." Seeing Dr. Brown's dubious look, Booth took his wife's arm and turned to leave the office. "Well, Bones, I guess we'll have to give a _full_ report to the school board about everything that's taken place here at the school…"

"Wait, please." Sighing softly, Dr. Brown glanced at Officer Kimble, who shrugged slightly. "Let me see what I can do. Surely we can come up with an equitable solution. After all, it would be better for the school's reputation if we didn't have to suspend someone over the incorrect usage of ketchup."

"I hope so." Booth grinned as he stood in the doorway. "We'll be in touch."

Oooooooooo

As the SUV sped along the highway toward the Hoover, Booth took a sideways look at his wife before chuckling to himself. "That's a good idea…"

"What's a good idea?" Obviously confused, she turned to her husband. "What do you mean?"

"I know you, Bones. I know you want to help Annie Sanchez with her high school and college education, and I don't blame you. That kid is brilliant, and I want to make sure she works for our side after she graduates from college. So, are you going to mentor her somehow? Tutor her? What's it gonna be?"

"Someone as smart as she is hardly needs tutoring. I do want to mentor her, and I'll probably offer to write a reference letter to MIT if that's what she wants." Brennan sighed as she looked out the passenger window. "Ms. Denton's influence on those students will be sorely missed. She evidently did a lot to encourage Annie and several other young people in their pursuit of science and engineering degrees."

"I think I know of a couple of people who could take her place." Seeing the question in her expression, Booth laughed. "C'mon, Bones...you, Angela, Cam...any one of you could do the same thing. The three of you could take turns going into different schools talking to kids about science careers. It'd help the kids, and it'd be great publicity for the Jeffersonian."

"Do you really think we would have that much influence on high school students, Booth?"

"Of course I do. I definitely think you should consider it. You'd be great." Pausing as his phone buzzed, he glanced at it before turning the SUV back toward Mt. Vernon high school.

Brennan was surprised by the sudden change in their route. "Where are we going, Booth? Did you forget something at the school?"

"Nope." He twitched an eyebrow at his wife. "Mr. Englund just sent me a text. I guess he doesn't realize I don't really work for him. Anyway, he's gonna be away from school this afternoon, so the broom closet is gonna be all ours, baby…"

"I see.", Brennan purred as she smiled at his suggestion. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to work at the school on a regular basis after all…"

Booth wore a big grin as he pulled into the school's parking lot. "Oh, yeah…."

* * *

 _Of course, students should be suspended for having weapons in school, but I decided to extend a bit of grace to the girl._


End file.
